


Her World or Mine

by silasfinch



Category: Saving Hope (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coming Out, Courage, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mutual Pining, Personal Growth, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26524432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: For 420 days, Sydney Katz was the centre of my world.For 390 of those days I thought we would beat the Romeo and Juliet cliche.I was wrong and my heart broke in a second.Now she is back to clean up Jason Kalfz mess.My heart is trouble.
Relationships: Sydney Katz/Maggie Lin
Comments: 56
Kudos: 69





	1. Paging Dr Katz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnNette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnNette/gifts), [odd71k](https://archiveofourown.org/users/odd71k/gifts), [bluealert23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluealert23/gifts).



> This idea wouldn't leave me alone.

_For a while we had forever in our hands_

_That's why one of us can't understand_

_How one of us moved on, one of us got stuck_

_One of us is drinkin' just for fun, one of us drinkin' to get drunk_

_One of us sleeps good, one of us hates to face the night_

_Just depends if you're talkin' about her world or mine_

_Yeah that's the difference between her world or mine_

_**Her World or Mine Michael Ray** _

"You are bringing in Sydney Katz to head the review and take Jason's position in the interm?" 

"Yes, why did you voice go up at least three octaves? It was quite a steal to convince her to transfer so quickly. If anybody can get us in shape for the ethics and conducts pannels it's Sydney Katz." Dawn sounds surprised by my reaction. 

I am too busy trying to control my reaction to the name to answer her question, not that there is an easy explanation. Sydney is even more competent than anyone at Hope Zion knows. The styles of Dr Katz and Dr Kalfas couldn't be more different which I suspect is a big part of the appeal. Almost losing the Collins baby and his mom was a horrific episode, not to mention the mandatory review of all his patients. 

"We are old friends i thought Syd was in the States doing a fellowship near Boston?" I rush to explain, trying not to wince at the lie. 

"Budget cuts. The team managed to get the crucial work done, but Dr Katz can't stay, hence the win for us. Is working with Dr Katz going to be a problem for you, Dr Lin." Dawn asks sharply

"No of course not. I look forward to working with her again." 

There is no other possible answer to the question. Being at the centre of that particular storm and reporting Jason’s drug addiction was one of the most professionally challenging periods of my life. My obsession with notes and decent recall for detail means that there shouldn't be too many repercussions for my career. Unfortunately, fixing this mess involves reliving a time in my life that almost broke me personally, according to at least one ex-boyfriend I am still holding a grudge. There aren't that many high-risk OBGYN's in the province, fewer of Syd calibre. 

Hope Zion is at the centre of far too many personal dramas (many of them mine). I refuse to let Sydney Katz become another.

****

For 420 days, Sydney Katz was the centre of my world. 

It's not fashionable to say such words now with all the talk about relationship equality and ambition, but the cliché fits. I had two passions in life, getting good grades in medical school and making a life with Sydney Katz. Of course, those two ambitions were the same my heart and mind. Syd was a prodigy who was climbing the ladder in leaps and bounds. However, for somebody so impatient and exacting, she was invested in me doing well. We spent hours sometimes days studying together. 

Sydney Katz was looking for a roommate for her spacious off-campus apartment. I was desperate not to spend another year in the dorm with people who didn't take studying nearly as seriously as I did. Of course, I did have the misfortune of being the only medical student on the floor. That's what comes from rebelling against your brilliant and influential father and deviating from his old school. Enrolling last minute meant that my options were limited and all the handy medical school cliques were in full effect. 

I was the only one of the applicants who were willing to meet her exacting standards of cleanliness, noise control and studying. Sydney was essentially asking for the perfect student robot so many people wouldn't meet the threshold. The apartment was in a prime location near campus, so I was ready to put up with a lot, especially when I saw the neat private room. I think she gave me a shot because we shared an interest in foetal medicine. 

_"Obstetrics isn't for babies. Are you up the challenge?"_ was her favourite through away line. 

I have a Sydney Box in the back of my closet, and most of the keepsakes are medicine related. After finishing with Dawn, my mind is overwhelmed with images and memories. It takes a few minutes to dig the box from its hiding place. My hands a trembling and I need to pause to wipe away few strays tears. Rosemary O'Neal-Lin would not appreciate her daughter clinging so tightly to a relationship, but the memories are still comforting. There is nothing else for me to hold onto when the memories become too much. 

There is the set of flashcards Sydney did for me when I was struggling mightily with Organic Chemistry. Her explanations are concise and to the point. The neat diagrams never fail to make me smile. 

There is an oversized Harvard sweatshirt and no longer smells like Sydney, but I can still picture her wearing on the cold nights when we were studying late. All her clothes are normally so precise and put together. The casual look is by far my favourite, especially when she would let me talk her into ice cream. 

There is Syd's favourite stethoscope, that is just the right weight and balance. I often wonder if she left it here on purpose or if it was an oversight. I am not brave enough to reach out to find out the answer. The weight was comforting on rounds sometimes. 

The only non-medical item was a small journal in one of their old notebooks. In typical Katz style, the words are in a language that I cannot hope to understand. The beautiful Hebrew script is strangely comforting, but I wish I could read the terms underneath. Of course, the stories are not mine to know. 

***

" _She_ is coming to Hope Zion to finish the review and take over Jason's position." I whisper-yell to Alex in place of an actual greeting. 

Alex Reid is my best friend and knows me better than most people considering we spent all our time together (in and away from the hospital). However, that does not make her inherently telepathic, and it takes her a while to make the connection. Sydney is a topic that we don't revisit often, and typically alcohol makes an appearance. Alex blinks at me slowly before straightening in a mixture of horror and fascination. 

"Of all the baby doctors in the world, they had to pick yours?" she asks incredulously. 

Alex sounds gratifying scandalised for me and immediately turns her attention away from whatever book she is reading. Alex doesn't know the particulars of the situation, but she knows enough to go into protective best-friend mode. While she was helping me recover from the miscarriage, my past with Syd become a topic. Syd was the only other person I could imagine having children with; it was yet another dream that went up in smoke. 

"The chances are higher than you think. Sydney Katz is about as in demand as they come. She's dealt with that time of placental emergency more than once." I shrugged trying to make myself sound more confident than I feel. 

"Are you going to be ok though? I've never seen you as broken up as when you were talking about her, that includes the breakup with Gavin. She has the power to still smash your heart into little pieces all over again. I can tell" Alex asks in full fiercely protective best friend mode. 

"It was never Sydney Katz who broke my heart, Alex. There were circumstances beyond our control that weren't let us stay together." I softly beg to differ. 

"That my friend is a classic distinction without a different. Your Sydney being of any length of time is the last thing you need right now, not when working through thing with Gavin and the baby." Alex warns sharply. 

"The last thing Hope Zion needs is for Jason Kalfz to go on benders with top of the range intravenous drugs, but there you go, timing is crappy all around. Dr Katz is here for a set objective and length of time. She is a nomad and will get itchy feet after a while. 

***

The Romeo and Juliet thing is only romantic in the movies and legions of YA novels. 

In reality, coming from two different worlds is about a thousand little compromises with somebody being unhappy at the end of the negotiation. Love isn't a mystical force that can make the intrusions of family and fear magically go away. Truly wanting to stick out such a relationship is a long slow grind that takes grit and emotional investment that can give you more sleepless nights than is healthy for a med student.

Sydney Katz was, and still is to the best of my knowledge, a devout Jewish woman. She believes in and wants to abide by the tenants of her faith. For her, there is little separation between the wonders and glory of science and the miracle of creation. The liberal atheist in me struggles with the juxtaposition, but somehow Syd makes it work, and such devotion is a strength to her career in medicine rather than a weekend. Developing genuine feelings for me was never part of the plan, and in some ways, our relationship was more destructive than comforting. 

" _To misuse that Elton John song, you are my candle in the wind. A bright spot against all the darkness and the forces of change. A wonder and warmth that should never be able to survive but manages it all the same."_ Sydney whispers the words into my hair after the first time we make love. 

" _Didn't Emily Dickinson also right about hope surviving storms? English was never my strong suit, but I hope for our little light."_ I whisper with absolute sincerity. 

Looking back, I can't even berate myself for being nieve and idealistic if Sydney Katz saw me tas her light than I was going to be the most comforting presence possible. It wasn't easy, and my relationships with other people in my life suffered the consequences, but any sacrifice was worth it for roughly 400 days. My grades were never higher, and the nights together were the highlight of any day, even the worst exams. The ending was terrible and soul-destroying, but I was never angry or hostile towards Sydney even at my most heartsick. Mom and Declan were all too willing to take up the role of knights protector. 

It would be better for my heart to say five years was enough time to get over Sydney Katz, but that would be a lie. 

***

There was no massive bust-up or breakup where our differences came into sharp impossible relief. 

I am in two minds if having one painful fight or series of battles like my parents would have made the result easier or harder to bear. Sydney's quiet confession that she couldn't defy her family to come with me happens over several days. She never lied to me or gave me false hope. I, in turn, never put pressure on her to change or run away with me into the sunset. The fights between my parents were too toxic for me to ever dream of doing that to anyone else. 

_"If love was enough. I would follow you everywhere and anywhere, but I am a daughter and a community member long before an individual, with personal desires."_ I can still hear those heartsick words sometimes in my dreams. 

My first instinct is to lash out at yet another brilliant doctor was prioritising another thing over their love for me. However, putting my father issues aside, it is too easy to see the agony that discussion wrought in Sydney's soul. I couldn't be the reason she gave everything up. The insecure part of me worries that a life with me as a struggling student would be poor compensation for losing everything she has ever known. 

_"I understand._ " is all I manage to choke out instead. 

I still remember every detail of that last night together. We didn't spend the time having desperate goodbye sex. Instead, Sydney clung to me all night. She was trying to memorise every detail of my body and touch. Half the promises she whispered were in Hebrew, and I've never been brave enough to look up the exact translation. 

***

There is a conflict of interest, but it's a difficult one to declare. 

There is no way I can tell Dawn King that her new staff OBYN here is my former secret girlfriend who I am not over. Only about four people on the planet know about our relationship, and they were equally keen to keep the secret. I have no idea if Sydney is out in any way, and it would be wrong to violate her privacy in such a casual way. The notion of being a lesbian was profoundly difficult for her, and I can't imagine that being any easier. 

Besides, without the memories and a few treasured keepsakes, there is little evidence of our relationship, much less a messy history that could cause conflict. Unlike the Alex-Charlie-Joel thing, our relationship was entirely private. Away from the hospital and not even in the same country, for all outward appearances were close friends and roommates with a shared passion for medicine. Syd couldn't be out as a lesbian in public, and I didn't feel any burning desire to force the issue, Yes we were living in a hideaway from reality, but it was a comfortable and safe space that got me through medical school. 

In a way, I was almost as damaged and sheltered as Syd, only differently. I was desperately trying to meet the expectations of the distant and apathetic Dr Lin, the elder. 

***

I shouldn't have worried my former lover and roommate took the initiative.

I stare in bemusement at the paperwork that calmly declares our relationship as 'former roommates and friends.' The words are nowhere near enough to describe that time of our lives. Technically Syd could get in trouble for lying but there a few people who would or could attest to the fact. Sydney Katz is refusing to supervise me directly or review my actions concerning the Collins case. Syd's terrible handwriting involves me that Shiloh Gregory will be the contact person. 

"Wow if there is one thing to say about Sydney Katz, she does not like messes, how the heck is she going to handle a drama fest like Hope Zion?" Alex asks while reading over my shoulder. 

"Syd is scrappier and tough than she first appears. Dr Katz will have no problem adapting to any situation, especially when there are babies in need. Sick children and their mothers are a universal language." I reply almost absently. 

"What about you though, you flinch every time that woman publishes and article, is it safe to have in the same hospital? especially after the miscarriage?" Alex asks gently squeezing my shoulder in affectionate support. 

"Neither of us have a lot of choice in the matter. It's a good career move for Syd, and there is nobody better to try and get things on track since Jason. My emotions are all over the place anyway, it's not like Sydney has a monopoly on wrecking my amygdala lately. I'll be fine." 

***

_"Our relationship couldn't be a factor in my decision."_

I snort in bitter amusement the words are true on so many levels. The text comes in from an unknown number, but I know who its from, we have still had mutual friends. Our relationship couldn't be a factor in any of her decisions; why would eight years make a difference to that reality. I resist the strong temptation to ignore her entirely, a bigger part of me longs for the connection again. 

_"I know that, Syd. It's been long time, I've thought about you."_ I reply truthfully. 

The seconds it takes Sydney to formulate a response seem to stretch out, and I can feel my heart racing. We aren't students and new grads anymore, but part of me still feels like one, scraping for the attention of an idol again. It's difficult to say whether it has been easier or harder that Sydney Katz has virtually no social media presence. On the one hard I don't need to see her moving on with the 'perfect Jewish man', but on the other, there is no way to make even a tentative connection across time and space. Ultimately the pain levels are about the same (objectively speaking as a doctor, of course). The truth is a part of me will always mourn the unrealised dream of those two foolish students in love. 

" _I follow your work at Hope Zion, its impressive Maggie. Jason Kalfz put you in that impossible situation. You handled the pressure like a pro, Dr Lin."_ Sydney compliments avoiding personal reflections. 

_"Dawn King is already in love with your approach to admin and insurance. Shiloh Gregory is going to supervise my placement, huh? How did you wrangle that neat workaround to our situation?_ Maggie asks with genuine curiosity. 

" _A lecture circuit next year and a few bottles of her favourite red wine. You will learn to allot from her and we will be doing the main case load together at Hope Zion."_ Sydney is quick to reassure her. 

_"As colleagues and old friends putting the injustices of the world to right, one maverick doctor at a time, feels like a strange sense of deja vu to me."_ Maggie aims for a teasing tone. 

" _I'll try and make my presence as minimally descriptive as possible for you Maggie, especially in the let lead up to your exams."_ Sydney promises somehow managing to convey earnestness through text. 

_"You are about five years and 11 placements too late for that Dr Katz but I appreciate the sentiment. Did your mother and the matchmaker work their magic?"_ Maggie tries to joke away the pain. 

" _I can't talk about that now but suffice to say. My parents aren't any less denial than there were when I was 17 and in love with Neishma."_ Sydney replies quickly. 

_"I look forward to seeing you, whatever the circumstances."_

Sydney's favourite phrase of scripture echoes in my brain as I switch off the phone. The passage is strangely controversial with several different interpretations, a few of the romantic. Sydney uses to whisper the words at the odd times that have no connection to the outside world. I often wonder if Sydney was trying to tell me something in her usual obtuse way. 

_"Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may the Lord do to me if anything but death parts me from you."_ _Book of Ruth._

It's a shame that I don’t have the courage to say the words outload.


	2. Definitions of Courage

_"Just don't tell em I've gone crazy,_

_That I'm still strung out over you,_

_Tell em anything you want to,_

_Just don't tell em all the truth,_

_Yeah don't tell em all the truth,_

_Tell em all I'm out in Vegas,_

_Blowin' every dollar I ever made,_

_Tell em that I must be into something bad for me cause,_

_I sure lost a lot of weight,_

_Tell em I'm out on the road with some old rock and roll band,_

_Living like a gypsy can." Jason Alterman_

**The Reunion**

"What the hell are you doing? Changing your speciality to orthopaedics is a little drastic isn't it?" 

I spare my best friend a glance before heading into the exam room at the end of the corridor. The tools I borrowed from the maintenance team must look strange, but there isn't time to explain. Alex falls in beside me out of both curiosity and concern. Sydney will be here in less than an hour, and the meeting will be awkward enough without giving her more ammunition. 

"Syd _hates_ the use of stirrups with a vengeance. I'm planning on circumventing the lecture by removing them in advance." 

The words sound vaguely ridiculous in my head, but I continue my mission in earnest. I was looking at the piece of outdated equipment on the hinge to see if there were any simple screws to remove. All Lin children have a basic grounding in maintenance and power tools, but I don't think Dr Bell or the maintenance guys would be too pleased if there were any permanent damage to the structures themselves. Luckily these older style beds have external mechanisms and detachable parts. 

"So your whole lecture over coffee this morning about being fine seeing her again was an excuse to get me off your back?" Alex guesses. 

"There is a difference between not mourning a former girlfriend and wanting to avoid a dressing down about modern obstetric care. We already have enough black marks against our name, the pride of Hope Zion and all that." my efforts at a joke fall flat. 

Alex doesn't buy my words for a moment, but neither does she comment or try and stop me. She knows when to strike the balance of pushing and support the decisions of her friends. Everybody at Hope Zion knows the extreme and risky lengths she went for Charlie and the notion of them still having a connection. 

"I see at least somebody at this hospital has sensible notions about the care of mothers and babies. Don't be surprised if I ask you to breakout those latent handywoman skills at a future date." a voice calls from the doorway. 

Both Alex and I turn to regard the woman standing in the doorway. Our reactions to her presence. Alex glowers at her without suspicion while I cannot help but remember the last time I saw her in person and all the heartache in between. Not even the drab clothing and harsh hospital lights could detract from her shining hair and intense gaze. 

***

"It’s wonderful to see you again." 

My statement feels truthful yet completely inadequate at the same time. There are so many other emotions competing for my attention that it seems safer to stick to the basics. All the preparation in the world couldn't stop my hippocampus from going into overdrive at that moment. Part of me wishes I accepted Alex's silent offer to run inference but seeing Sydney Katz is something I need to do on my own, especially as we are going to be working closely together. 

"You haven't changed much in those years, except maybe a new hairstyle and more moves when stitching and keyhole surgery?" Sydney replies, steeping more fully into the room. 

I cannot return the same compliment in good faith. Sydney Katz has changed during our time apart both in recognisable physical ways and with some indefinable quality. The clothing she is wearing is in the familiar conservative style that must get hot under hospital temperatures. Her beautiful red hair that I admire so much is in a classic clip. She moves in a commanding way, but doubt haunts her eyes. 

"Dawn Bell is immensely grateful to you for steeping into the breech like this, few doctors would take on the challenge." I parrot the words for lack of a better retort. 

"Jason Kalfas is a poor excuse for a doctor and even worst foetal medicine specialist, drug dependence doesn't account for half this showmanship." 

I suppress a flash of irritation. Sydney Katz has done little besides rant about Jason and his methods for the last hour. Dawn has the foresight to send over all the medical files in advance, and naturally, Syd has read them word for word. She could probably recite individual baby's medical history and middle names. 

Our mission has two primary aims. The first is to review every single one of Jason Kalfas cases to check for irregularities and poor judgement. There has already been an investigation into the Collins case and the ten previous deliveries. Dawn and the lawyers want to be sure there are no future risk factors. In my gut, I don't believe there will be much to find. Jason was a brilliant specialist before his world spun out of control. Mothers were lining around the block to see him (sometimes literally) which is part of the problem. The second goal is to redesign obstetric care to ensure the dangers are minimal for this happening again. 

"It's not as simple as demonising him or his methods, Syd. There was a time when Jason Kalfas was the best in the field. Hope Zion and the team needs to take some accountability for letting his addiction spiral when we all knew he was acting strange." I try to interject gently. 

"Surely you aren't blaming yourself, It's not a student's job to monitor a teacher." Sydney retorts fiercely. 

"Nor is it entirely Jason's fault we have over 100 cases to review." 

***

**Week Two: Objects in the Review Mirror, May Appear Closer Then They Are.**

"I am not going to pretend our past together doesn't exist." 

I don't blame Sydney for blinking up at me wearily the following morning. After all, my statement is completely out of context, and it is 6:30 am. Syd always was a ridiculously early riser so that she could attend afternoon services or Synagogue events. For some reason, I agree to start our work before 7 am. It's not like I was sleeping much in any case. If I was going to spend all my time thinking about this woman, we might as well do something productive together. 

"Maggie.."

"Whatever you want to see or do while here is fine by me. You don't owe anybody an explanation or justification, but I'm _not_ going _to_ prepare we weren't close at one time and that the experience meant something to me." I wince at how intense the words sound even to my ears

"Oh Maggie." 

Sydney caught between competing emotions. She doesn't want to have a personal conversation in these halls. At the same time, her instinct is to try and soothe me, her lips almost from the Hebrew word for darling before opting for safer territory. She only slipped into her second language when we were alone and typically in bed. I don't feel proud that it invites such a reaction. These words are not the well-rehearsed once I practice with Alex; I sound needy and hopeless. 

"I don't expect you to forget or forgive what happened. One of the most important things about being a doctor is knowing who you are and what defines you."

There are plenty of reactions that I expect Sydney have to my words, most of them revolving around moving on from the topic as soon as humanly possible. After all, we are talking about the early hours of the morning after a long demanding introduction to the workings of Hope Zion. Sydney surprises me by reaching out and pulling me into a hug and squeezing firmly. For a long moment, I remain awkwardly frozen but relaxing and accepting the gesture. Sydney Katz isn't naturally tactile, and she doesn't demonstrate affection like this often. 

"Knowing you is one of the most formative experiences of my life, denying that would be a fruitless as telling the sun not to shine or halting the tides." she whispers into my ear. 

***

"How have you been doing this last five years?" 

Sydney gives that weak attempt at an opening line a scornful look it deserves. In the last few weeks, we have established something of a pattern for doing the case note and policy review. Lunch together in the cafe by the hospital before tackling the mountain of paperwork. The legal team seems happy with our progress which matters more than it should. 

"There is little tell beyond a steady climb at the professional ranks and taking on progressively more difficult cases and proving my worth to doctors 20 years my senior. A typical Jewish cliche really on multiple levels. I've been fortunate with some of my appointments and grants." Sydney rattles off the accomplishments like it's her bio page. 

"Not so steady and bordering on meteoric if the gossip is to be believed, our graduating class might be willing to build a statue in your honour." 

"Or burn it in retaliation for my horrible people skills and complete inability to make friends. There was a reason you didn't have much competition for the position as my roommate." 

"More the fools for them, that place was a prime study nook and you were a dream in comparison Declan." 

My words seem to do the trick, and my companion relaxes into the booth and starts eating her lunch. Our habit of sharing lunches seems to be paying off on both a professional and personal level. Even though she is not working as my direct supervisor, I am still learning plenty from undertaking this project with Syd. While plenty of hurts still lingers between us, there is tenderness too. 

"I wasn't brave or revolutionary." 

It seems strange, but one of the things I miss most about our relationship is the companionable silence that happens so naturally. Both of us were such eager medical students that nights of studying together become the norm. Sometimes we wouldn't speak for hours other times when would spend the time debating the finer points of medicine. It makes me happy and sad to realise that this tendency hasn't changed much in the years that separate us. The statement is so quiet I barely hear the words. 

"I would love to tell you that breaking up with you and running away to another province led to a private revolution or revelation, but it didn't. I only clung to the traditions harder. Not that you couldn't tell such a thing from my outfit. Syd gestures vaguely at her dress as if it automatically condemns her. 

While I knew we couldn't avoid talking about those final few weeks forever, the pain still hits me fresh. I may not be angry at her and understood why we couldn't stay together; my heart was still fully invested. Sitting here with her five years later did not lessen the impact of her words then and now. 

"Bravery takes many forms, and I think you are plenty courageous for continuing in a specialisation that demands so much time and dedication. I do not measure you by a rainbow coloured yardstick for successful living publicly or privately, not when we together and not now." I muster up the courage to say the words even though it hurts. 

"How are you not the light of someone's universe and planning a wedding that even your marriage cynical mother could get behind?" there is a trace of genuine wonder in her voice. 

"That's a story for another day. We should only handle one relationship crisis per lunch break. There will be enough heartache and despair to go around fixing Jason's mess." 

***

"The matchmaker is on my case at least twice a week."

Somehow over our time working together, Sydney starts sharing small amounts of information about her life and feelings. I begin collecting this information like they are shells or pretty stones from nature. For my sanity and mental wellbeing (according to Alex and Zach), there should be limits to my interest Syd and what she has to say. After all, there is no guarantee she will stay beyond her fixed-term contract, especially if the board and Dawn resist her sweeping changes to the current system. 

I don't have any right to the stab of jealousy at the idea, but my heart clenches for other reasons. I would feel a conventional level of heartbreak if Sydney wanted to marry and find the perfect husband. Long nights in our apartment proof otherwise Syd has never precisely 'come out to me' (whatever that means), but I know that she is unlikely to find true happiness with a man.

"My delays are driving Becca and Mom to distraction, but I cannot bring myself to let them find me a perfectly decent Jewish scholar. Not just because it would make me unhappy but it would condemn any future union to unhappiness on some level, even if I were faithful for the rest of my days." Syd's voice has taken on that flat, lifeless tone which only appears when she is trying to conceal the pain. 

"Do they have any idea about..."

"My inclination towards woman, of course, they do, have known for years. Everyone's denial is impenetrable because I am not waving a rainbow flag and proclaiming anything openly. The matchmaking efforts only intensified after our breakup, even if they cling to the notion of a passionate friendship or something equally safe to consider." Syd sighs wearily. 

'I'm guessing you can't keep Becca in a holding pattern forever, from our brief interactions your sister is not somebody who takes no for an answer without putting up a fight." Maggie suggests fighting the urge to reach out in comfort. 

"That's an understatement, but for right now my busy schedule as a Jewish doctor saving babies buys me some level of grace, especially as Becca wants to start a family. We are all living on denial and borrowed time but that's nothing new for the Katz Family." 

"Which doesn't give you much time to meet anyone or have anything close to a social life?" I conclude with genuine regret in my words. 

"As if I could, in good conscience, bring anyone else into this mess. The doctoring excuse words for my longings too. Too Jewish for one community. Too gay for another. " Sydney's voice sounds brittle and hollow. 

"You are more than a collection of problems and issues Syd. Don't dismiss the possibility of even a friendship. The rest of the human race might surprise you with their ability to see the nuances." I try to offer encouragement. 

"Let's get back to the matter at hand. Dawn's review will not right itself, and I don't want you having to take any more time than strictly necessary from your studies and exam preparations." Syd says the words decisively and absolute. 

***

"What the hell are you doing, Mags? I know you are feeling the effects of the breakup with Gavin but…”

Alex Reid means more to me than just about anybody on the planet. Getting to do my medical school education with her and then progress through into training is one of the lights of my life. She is my grounding force and biggest cheerleader in equal measure. However, her judgement over my entanglement with Sydney Katz is a bone of contention between us. For somebody who defied death and doctors for a comatose Charlie, she has quite a narrow from of my relationship history. 

"Inviting Syd to dinner has nothing to do with Gavin or even our past. She is new in town, and we were old friends before anything else. Stop fussing and go home to kiss my godson and cutest child in the world." I instruct firmly. 

Alex glowers at me suspiciously as I carefully prepare the ingredients for Syd's favourite comfort food. It terms out preparing kosher food is somewhere in my muscle memory, and all the tools and techniques come back as I run down the list. We are meeting on Saturday night after Syd sees her family. Syd doesn't have to say out loud that see her family will not be a relaxing experience for her, especially with her reluctance to seek out a matchmaker. 

"Maggie you are too emotionally venerable to risk your heart again with the same woman. There is nothing in 'sapphic love' handbook that says you _can't_ have a clean with an ex and not recreate the _The L Word._ There is the whole mess with Jason, Gavin and the review committee to consider." Alex warns sound, genuinely fearful. 

"Look at you with all the inclusive pop culture references. It's precisely because we still have some much baggage that I need to have a quiet dinner away from medical records. We can't avoid each other for the next few weeks or months." I reason while adding the next round of spices. 

"That's not how these things go Mags, but I am here Win, Lose or Draw in this latest round of Hurricane Katz Season. Call me day or night the little one will be bouncing on my bladder in any event. It's kind of refreshing to be the one giving advice rather than pacing in your living room." 

Alex hugs me fiercely, and I smell when her bump gets in the way. We will soon have a new member to include in our adventures. Whatever happens with Sydney Katz there will continue to solid people willing to hold me up in our families of choice. That would be an improvement on our last breakout and breakdown. 

***

"What's wrong, you look like you are in pain?"

I cannot help but smile sadly when Syd asks the question despite my efforts to put on a brave face. Dinner is going better than my most optimistic expectations. The conversations flow easily, and Syd seems genuinely thrilled that not only remember all her favourites but how to cook them within the Jewish specifications. It's not the right time to say that I think of her every Friday at mealtime. 

"I'm fine just a long day." 

My dismissal would be more convincing if I weren't subject to a wave of intense pain that almost left me gasping. The rational part of me that is still a doctor knows that this isn't dangerous. Heavy periods and residual pain and cramps are not uncommon after a miscarriage. The nurses were careful to explain such things to me, even know though we learn about it in the first-year med curriculum." 

"Come, let’s get you lying on the coach or bed and I'll find a heat pack or something." Sydney is on her feet, instantly turning into caregiver mode. 

"I miscarried at about 10 weeks, first period in regular cycle is a little rough." I reveal the truth even though it hurt to say. 

"Oh my darling, I'm so sorry." Syd doesn't mean to use the term of endearment, but it is still comforting. 

"Gavin was supposed to be fun, charming and uncomplicated or simply _not you_ , We were supposed to have an easy relationship, but a surprise baby and unresolved parent issues got between us. Surprisingly most of the problems were his and not mine. Though comparing a Christian psychiatrist with few ties to family to a faithful Jewish daughter didn't do our relationship any favours." The confession is awkward but truthful. 

"Maggie my advice is still the same, let’s get you off your feet. We can save the rest of the meal for leftovers like any good Jewish dinner." Syd's smile is tentative but genuine. 

I struggle not to cry because we could back five years ago when I wasn't feeling well, and Syd would do anything within her power to make me feel better again. It doesn't help that the woman in front of me looks so achingly familiar. The passage of time hasn't necessarily been that kind to her; her frown lines are deep for somebody who is _just_ 30\. Syd looks like she could do with far more sleep and more Jewish feasts. While her nails are perfect and immaculate, I can see the redness at the edges and corners, one of her many nervous habits—despite all that her offer of comfort means the world to me. 

If I were in my right mind (a debatable prospect at this stage), I would try and remember the rest of the night. Add this file to my memories of Sydney Katz. Instead, the time becomes snapshots that blend into a haze of pain and tenderness. Syd guides me to the bedroom and fusses with the pillows while I shrug into comfortable clothes. She encourages me to take some pills and drink a full glass of water. In the background, there seems to be a vague conversation between my houseguest and Gavin's cat, which would have been far more entertaining if I was more awake. Dr Sydney Katz might be the only dinner guest I know who spends time tending to a) a cat b) house plants c) rearranging the freezer d) arranging medication schedule. 

"Hey, sleepyhead. There was no need to act or stoic and tough. We could have rearranged our plans. By the look of the work at Hope Zion I am going to be here for a while." Syd makes the admonishment gently as she comes back at sits by my bed. 

"The pain and emotional rollercoaster wasn't so bad this afternoon. Dam, my overworked endocrine system." I explain feebly. 

"Your system will heal, as will your heart and soul, but they all need time." Sydney warns stroking my hair in a comforting and familiar way. 

"Thank you, Rabbi Dr Katz." I joke with no small amount of affection. 

"I am no wise woman or in any position to teach right now but this is kind of my area. After some negotiations, Snowball agrees to let me crash on the couch. We'll fight over the pillows and blanket domains, but he seems agreeable to the idea. You are going to be a fine but I don't want to leave you alone in case things get bad again." Sydney proclaims this as it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

"Syd you don't need to..."

"It’s either being here observing you directly or going to be my featureless hotel room and worrying about you all night. At least this way odds are we will both get a little sleep. I'll call Dawn and arrange a few days off for you if things aren't better in the morning." Sydney leaves no room for negotiation with the tone. 

"Well far be it for me to interrupt your arrangement with my feline roommate. Just don't let him convince you to feed him at all hours. He is not starving, evidence to the controversy. 

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but I almost heard the familiar notes of a Jewish lullaby as a headed off to sleep. It's comforting to have this woman in my world again, even under the circumstances. The words of the Book of Ruth echo mainly in my head but always in her voice. My limited Hebrew isn't good enough to do the phrases justice. 

_"Do not urge me to leave you, to turn back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go; wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may the Lord do to me if anything but death parts me from you."_

If only she dares to say those words when I am awake and before the world. 


	3. Safety Mode

_ "There's a number on a phone that one of us erased _

_ There's a "late-night can we try again?" call one of us wants to make _

_ 'Cause one of us can't even think about bein' in another's arms _

_ And there's a car in the drive that stayed all night, where one of us used to park _

_ One of us moved on, one of us got stuck _

_ One of us is drinkin' just for fun, one of us drinkin' to get drunk _

_ One of us sleeps good, and one of us hates to face the night _

_ Just depends if you're talkin' about her world or mine _

_ For a while we had forever in our hands _

_ That's why one of us can't understand" _

Her World or Mine - Michael Ray 

***

My best friend is glowering at me before 7 am. 

The fact is not entirely unusual. Alex and I both keep unusual hours at the hospital. Our friendship revolves around finding time in between shifts and her bouts of morning sickness. The drama with the accident and Charlie only heightens this propensity. Alex was single-handedly responsible for my nutrition intake in the weeks following the miscarriage. She is one of the few people with a key to my apartment and the ability to use it liberally. What was surprisingly about her showing up today is that she gave me a warning and knocked on the door. We were in the middle of a sort of fight about Sydney Katz, but still, the behaviour is strange. 

"What are you doing here, I thought we were meeting at the cafee so you can figure out your cravings and complain about junior doctors for an hour or so?" I keep my voice low 

"You didn't debrief me about the Great Sabbath Dinner of Denial?" Alex says the words impatiently as the answer is obvious.

"Yeah, sorry I wasn't in much of a state to answer questions. My muscle memory when it comes to kosher foods still holds. There were no complaints. 

Alex Reid's posture immediate turns from curious interrogation to concern. Nursing me through losing the pregnancy and the breakup was no easy task. My mental health was never in true danger, but some days were pretty dark, and Alex was the one to hold me together. She wanted my relationship with Gavin to work, but she didn't judge when he left to find himself. 

"What's going on...did she.." Alex doesn't get a chance to finish her accusation. 

"Maggie, I want you on restricted duty for the next days. Medically you are fine but let's not push things. Dawn Bell has enough paperwork to keep us both busy." Sydney calls as she comes out of the bathroom. 

It doesn't surprise me that Syd didn't register the visitor. She always did have the focus to rival a senior monk. She would already be focusing on the cases for the day and possibly inventive ways to kill Jason Kalfas. The other doctor comes out of the room, towelling her long hair and blinks owlishly at Alex in genuine confusion. Syd quickly redoes her hair in a neat plait before moving forward to greet Alex cautiously. If I didn't know her so well, she would appear perfectly at ease. 

"I was experiencing nasty cramps and cycle pain last night. Sydney stayed over  _ on the couch  _ to keep an eye on me. I was pretty wiped out in the end." I rush to explain. 

Alex immediately turns her attention more directly. She regards me with the concern of both a doctor and best friend. I'm confident there is nothing for her to see. If Sydney Katz is nothing else, she is an excellent caretaker. I'm going through the emotional wringer, but the pressure is getting a little easier with each day. Gavin needed to leave to make peace with his loss; I choose the path of confronting the situation head-on, complete with the same hospital and rooms each day. 

"I'll see you at Hope Zion, Maggie. I have a teleconference from thing this morning. Dr Reid, make sure she has a healthy breakfast and plenty of fluids throughout the day. Her appetite is always finicky prospect." Sydney breezes past us as if we are med students again. 

Both of us watch Sydney Katz as she walks down the corridor. Alex turns back to me with a mixture of concern and annoyance on her face. The one thing Alex Reid hates is being left out of the loop, especially in situations when her friends may need support. She doesn't trust Sydney Katz with my psychological or emotional health. 

"You can't rely on her to be a security blanket, Mags. She is going to leave before the end of the year. HR says she is being cagy about signing another contract." Alex Reid is the foundation of all knowledge when it comes to the hospital. 

"You aren't going to change my mind on this Alex. Let's have breakfast and start the day." I say firmly. 

***

"I am going to update my friendship handbook; you could have given me some warning."

Alex corners me in the staff car park even before I leave the car. She doesn't look as angry, but she isn't relaxing either. We are going to have a conversation about my visitor from last night whether I like it or not. It's hard enough to figure out my emotions when it comes to Syd without having Alex's strong opinions. She can't get past the fact that my former girlfriend hurt me rather profoundly. Syd's tenure here is going to be difficult if they don't get along. 

"What are you talking about?"

I know what is she is talking about but don't have the energy to get into a confrontation now. Sometimes explaining things helps Alex calm down from the heights of her protective friend instincts. One of the things I love so much about my friend is how far she is willing to go for those she loves. The efforts to bring Charlie back from the accident are truly something to behold. However, having that intensity focus on me, and my personal decisions can be a little daunting. My relationship with Sydney Katz has always been a private matter without commentary. The adjustment is new. 

"The Maggie Lin playbook I know is calm and steady focusing on the prize of the medical world dominating and tireless work in the background to support our makeshift family. In contrast, I'm the one of with the reputation for great romantic entanglements with more emotion than sense, which drive me to the ends of the earth. You are the Samwise Gamgee to my Frodo Baggins if you will." Alex waves her hands expansively to emphasise the point. 

"Frodo never sought frontline life and Samwise did love the stories of new worlds. You were looking to break ground in highschool, but I take the metaphor. If my Alex Translation is working, then you are worried I'm tangling myself back up in Sydney Katz without regard for the consequences if/when she leaves again? Her staying the night is the ultimate proof of a queer cliche?" I quiz her as we walk together to the hospital. 

"That is an apt summary, Dr Lin. You can't deny it looks like a scene out of a romantic comedy when the two main characters are in denial land." Alex points, shifting her weight to ease pressure on her back. 

"Sometimes things are as simple as a friend who is an expert in pregnancy and pregnancy loss, assisting another person in the after-effects, Alex. However we parted, Syd was a great comfort to me than and it is doing the same now. It is possible to have high emotional connections without seeking to resume a romantic link." I explain carefully before digging around in my purse for the ID badge." 

"The worst kind of living in denial is when you believe that you have everything under control. Trust me, such thinking has defined my life for the past eighteen months." Alex laments without a trace of self-pity. 

"Alex, I am a better person because you are in my corner, but please trust me. Spending time with Syd in this way may seem strange, but doing so is helping me find peace. She is one of the few people, aside from you, who can understand my reality with Gavin, the baby, studying. We are careful with each and have greater emotional maturity and insight now. It may all end in heartbreak again, but it won't be a careless disregard." I offer gently.

"Are you still in love with her?" Alex asks seriously keeping her voice low. 

"Of course I am, but that's the issue here. Alex lets just spend some time together and talk about other topics."

***

A small part of me thinks Sydney's God may have brought us together to aid my healing. 

An early-stage miscarriage is a relatively simple thing from a medical perspective. It's one of the first aspects you learn about in L&D rotations. However, the clinical facts bare little reality to the experience of the rush of hormones and psychological pain. She and Gavin couldn't or wouldn't come together to share the loss as a couple. In a way, they were both chasing ghosts. He was longing for a connection with his mother. I was trying to recapture the relationship with Alex, my family and Syd. In some ways, we were better therapy group buddies than partners. 

"You don't need to be hovering. Last night truly was the exception to the rule, in more ways than one. The pain and grief are generally at manageable levels." I offer Syd a wane smile while attempting to stand a little straighter. 

"I am not hovering. This moment is one colleague showing an appropriate level of concern for another. I would stage the same intervention for that Emergency Department friend of yours who cannot stay off dating sites. At least the Matchmakers have some level of quality control." Sydney grumbles back. 

"We can debate Zach's social life later. Right now, we have plenty of work ahead, and I know you want to beat the deadline. You will be the first to see if I need a break or have any flare-ups again. It's hardly escalating to sit for five hours and read reports. Jason's admin is surprisingly efficient in some cases." I gently try and encourage her down the hallway. 

"Physically maybe but so much discussion of pregnancy cannot be easy." Sydney worries at her glasses in a nervous gesture. 

"OBGYN is my rotation topic and hopefully going to progress into a speciality. The subject of mothers and babies was always going to come up once or twice in the next few weeks. Shiloh has me drawing digital fetal hearts next week." I point out trying to seem optimistic and energetic. 

"You are going to be a brilliant specialist. Not even the chaos of your last placement is going to derail your ambitions, Dr Lin. Part of my responsibility here is to minimise the fallout on you at the rest of the team." Sydney insists as she matches me stride for stride. 

"Which fits in nicely with your urge to Jewish mother me?" I tease gently. 

"Something like that Maggie." Sydney smiles at hands and me over a bag of snacks. 

I lean down and kiss her check almost without thinking. Sydney stiffens for a moment, but she smiles at me before hurrying away. She is gone before I can find the right words. 

***

** Week Three: Blame it on me, I was the one **

** Acting like real life was some old love song **

Sydney keeps her word in a way that is both life-affirming and heartbreaking at the same time. 

Dr Sydney Katz is a diligent worker, and we are making solid process on the review and changes to clinical guidelines. The part of me that is my father's daughter will always be a surgical fend. The pace and pressure in the operating room are addictive. However, this is still valuable work; I never want to face something like the Collins baby ever again. There need to be more red flags in the field of medicine, especially with addiction rates. I think Syd takes delight in shaping a programme from the ground up and she has the makings of an excellent administrator if that's her desire.

"Eat your sandwich; you aren't a student anymore, racing between lectures. Even during prep for the boards, eating well should be a priority." Sydney says without looking away from her papers. 

I look at the perfectly cut sandwiches, done exactly the way I prefer them. Sydney Katz could not be my girlfriend openly five years ago, so she found different ways to express her affection, including taking the caretaker role. My school years were a mixture of mad scheduling, classes and the desperate desire to retrain information. However, I never went without a good meal and fresh clothes. Some of my classmates can not make the same claim. 

"If you weren't such an amazing surgeon, I would recommend a career shift to open a deli or something. Nobody does sandwiches as you do, I never could replicate your mayo and chutney mix. There is just something about the combination that makes everything better. " I reminisce almost wistfully. 

"I'm a fussy shopper everything comes down to starting things fresh. I still make my dough on the weekends if I don't have a shift. It is relaxing to produce great loaves from such a simple formula. An appreciative audience is always welcome. 

What neither of us says is that some of our best memories centre around relaxing at the weekend. Developing, hobbies outside of medicine. Our lives were far from balanced, but we did manage to have fun doing everything from shopping to laundry days. The Jewish calendar and rituals dominated Syd's timetable. Still, she took the job of relaxing seriously and made sure we did one or two fun activities, especially towards the end before things went wrong. I ideally wonder if anybody is encouraging her to take a break or relax for the weekend. Somehow I suspect she spends many days alone. 

"Eat the food, Maggie it doesn't need to be a philosophical exercise." Sydney repeats decisively.

***

I see the pressure Sydney's family is putting on her grow every day. They may not know about our relationship specifically, but Mrs Katz senses her hesitation. 

"Sorry I'm late temple services ran late today and mother tried to corner me with the third matchmaker. The notion that her techniques are not going to be successful escapes the notice of most of my female relatives."

Syd means the words as a throwaway joke as she slides into the chair beside in the hospital research office. We are meeting relatively late to review our first briefing for Dawn. I didn't want to interrupt her Friday night, but she wouldn't hear of changing things. 

"Is there any use in offering to brainstorm ways to talk to your family and help them give up the dance of denial? They may never accept you entirely but can they can at least stop pretending they will find your ideal husband around the next corner?" Maggie asks with plaintive hope in her voice. 

"For a Jewish mother and sister, the two things are one and the same. Acceptance is a conditional construct. Everything I do will be a source of pride only if I meet this obligation first, last and always." Sydney repeats the notion as if she is saying it for the 100th time. 

I reach out and hold her hand. The new reality with Sydney Katz is painful on multiple levels, and it hurts my heart. The single advantage is that we exist in public space. Nobody will notice if I try and comfort a friend as we eat lunch together. Syd is becoming more tactile as the weeks progress. I feel like I am learning a whole new language of Dr Sydney Katz. In some ways, she is the same person, but there are subtle differences. 

***

"I'm sorry I didn't come back for Dr Lin's ceremony. I heard about your final act for him." Sydney says suddenly over lunch one day. 

Syd's words are gentle, but I still feel that familiar surge of emotions whenever my father comes up in conversation. The senior Dr Lin was a brilliant man and beloved teacher, but his gifts did not extend to fatherhood or family life. There is an adage about genius coming at the expense of social relationships, and it is true for us. We were starting to get to know each other with the weekly dinners before his death. That particular slot in my calendar remains empty, along with the times I set aside for OBGYN visits. It's hard to adjust the notion of either of those realities not being there anymore. 

There was so much I wanted to say to him, personal things that a daughter tells a father. Including how deeply I loved this woman who to him would always be my roommate. One of my biggest regrets is that we couldn't speak outside the familiar language of medicine and his speciality. Syd is one of the few people, besides Alex, who knows about my inner conflict. 

"Assisting Charlie with the donation process is the most intimate act I have ever done for Dad."

To her credit, Sydney Katz doesn't show a Jewish woman's distaste for the ritual. Truthfully, many of my friends with the exceptional Alex were equally horrified by the notion. To them, preparation Dad's bones for donation was all the evidence they needed that I did not take enough time off to grieve my loss. Few people realise that my father and I were saying goodbye in the only common language that we understood. 

"How are your family adjusting to everything? I know your mother was still very conflicted when it came to her former husband. Is your brother doing okay?" Sydney asks with true compassion in her voice. 

"Rosemary O'Neal is an expert at denying and deflecting her feelings. Plenty of therapists are in her wake; we'll talk about it properly in a decade or so, repression is the name of the game. Declan is following in the family tradition, but we will have a private ceremony which brought everyone together. My mandarin is still a little rusty, but it was lovely to connect with that branch of the family again." I explain, smiling at the memory. 

"The loss of a parent can be profound." Sydney agrees softly linking our fingers together. 

"I do not envy your experience of losing your parents by degrees to the impossible standards steeped in tradition and circumstance. It still breaks my heart a little that I was in no position to stand up for you when they came around demanding Perfect Jewish Daughter 600 Addition. My connection with the great Dr Lin was distant, but it was at least manageable." I broach the topic carefully. 

"Sometimes, the familiar is easier than the prospect of uncertainty. Not everybody dares to risk heart and soul on an unknown variable, Maggie." Sydney turns away, hiding her tears. 

***

"Will you tell me what the story of Ruth and Naomi means to you?" 

Sydney Katz is standing with me as I place everything for my lost baby into a memory box. The grief counsellor suggested doing this weeks ago, but Dr Katz has more persuasion. She lets me cry and cradle the generic, gender-neutral toys I brought on a whim. There is no greater listener when I talk about my hopes and fears about motherhood in the future. My question catches her off guard, but she doesn't let it show. Syd reverently moves the box and blows out the last of the candle. 

"Why do you ask such a thing?" Syd asks genuinely curious rather than trying to avoid answering. 

"It's one of my defining memories with you. The way you would always whisper those words in the early morning hours or when you thought I was asleep. I couldn't swear to it, but I think the verse was one you frequently wrote when practising Hebrew. Some of the lines and marks become familiar after a while." I keep my voice light and gentle to try and keep her talking. 

"There are many interpretations of those words, in the different versions of scripture. The idea that Ruth or Noami had romantic feelings for each other is one of the more controversial. It's unlikely that the biblical scribes and scholars would willingly put such an idea in cannon of texts be it Jewish or Christian." Sydney begins shifting slightly but not looking away from me or the intimacy of our connection. 

"What is the meaning for you, Syd?" I repeat the question gently but firmly instinctively sensing there is more to the story. 

"I felt a connection to this story long before I developed feelings for Neshama or the idea of being a lesbian. For me, the words centre around the idea that there are different ways to express devotion and faith. That there isn't one way for a woman to show her love for God or her faith. Naomi and Ruth found a path that they believed in with absolute conviction after doubt." Sydney whispers sounding both bashful and tender. 

"A notion that gave you hope for a different path?" 

"When I was in the sheltered cocoon of medical school and living away from my family with a liberal, feminist wild child as my roommate. The flicker of courage did not hold up under the scrutiny of the real world, though." Sydney points out with a hapless shrug. 

"The core of the story still holds true, Syd. You are finding your path by becoming one of the greatest new doctors in our field. It takes a lot of courage to come to Hope Zion, knowing that I am the doctor you will be working with, does not sell yourself so short. There are multiple ways to live the life of a queer woman as well, including being a devout woman of faith." I feel like I'm repeating the same words, but Sydney needs plenty of encouragement. 

"I wasn't going to let you face the carnage of Jason Kalfas's mistakes alone. Dawn Bell seems like a decent person, but it becomes far too easy to blame the actions of the junior doctor. Dr Bell didn't have that many specialists on her shortlist." Sydney reaches out and squeezes my hand affectionately. 

"We were focusing on you and your acts of mourning not my interpretation of Judeo Christian theory. There is plenty of time to reflect on such things at my new temple social club." Syd attempts to wave away the topic. 

"Understanding you and how we left things is an important part of my mourning too, Dr Katz, if I can lay down those psychological burdens than there is more space for the others." I mean the words as a weak joke but my companion frowns. 

"Is there anything to understand me being unable to reconcile the two sides of my identity and competing priorities? You did nothing wrong." Sydney insists with a slight tremble in her voice. 

"Please resist the temptation to turn me into the perfect creature of your memory, Syd. I made plenty of mistakes along the way." I counter, forcing her to keep my gaze. 

"Jews don't have saints, Maggie. I see you realistically." Sydney argues sheepishly. 

"Thank you for staying and grieving with me, Syd."

We sit together in since for a long moment. Sydney hums softly, a Jewish song of grief and remembrance. There are many painful days ahead, but at that moment, I feel the small spark of hope. My life will be better for having this woman back in my life, even if we never spend time together as a couple again. If for no other reason than she respects and acknowledges the passing of the fetus that was going to be my future child. 


	4. New Doctor At Hope Zion

_ "What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you? And What am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK? _

_ I'm falling to pieces, yeah , I'm falling to pieces _

_ They say bad things happen for a reason _

_ But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding _

_ 'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving _

_ And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven, even, no _

_ And what am I going to do when the best part of me was always you? AndWhat am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up and you're OK?" _

Breakeven- The Script

** Week Six: Just prayin' to a God that I don't believe in **

** 'Cause I got time while she got freedom **

"How would you honestly feel about me taking the position as staff OBGYN?" 

Sydney's question is a surprise only in the fact it took her an additional three weeks to ask it. We are making rapid and consistent progress in cleaning up Jason's mess. Dawn Bell might have her first good night's sleep in a month. A medical scandal of this kind is the worst nightmare for hospital administrators. The changes Syd recommends in terms of staffing rotations, security and wellness checks are expensive but workable. 

In my completely biased opinion, few specialists could take up the load as effectively as the author herself. Syd scoffs at the idea and proceeds to recite the bios of several of her older contemporaries. My former lover does not have low self-esteem; few surgeons succeed if that have that affliction. Part of this stems from her deep religious faith, not wanting to take individual credit for the wonders of the universe. The second part is the damage done by her family's insistence on conforming to the community expectations and sameness. The mantel of prodigy never sat well with her even when we were students first learning the trade. 

Unfortunately for Syd, she wouldn't be able to hide in the shadows after submitting this piece of work. Dr Dawn Bell is an extremely good surgeon in her own right, but her life revolves around lawyers and insurance meetings at this point. It wouldn't take long for the media to draw comparisons to some of the fetal medicine scandals of the past decades, in painful ways. Jason Kalfas was on his way to being that influential. Syd, won't seek nor will she get any of the true recognition for righting the ship in record time. It would only make sense for her to see the changes through and take up the contract. The fact she practices a style of medicine that is the polar opposite to her predecessor will help greatly with the hiring progress. 

"I honestly thought you taking the position was a forgone conclusion. The contract fits well with both your schedule, the hospitals' needs and the ratio of Jewish doctors." I tease her gently. 

"Regardless of all that, I want  _ your  _ opinion on my staying for the length of this contract. You won't be the deciding factor, but our past will inevitably play a role, even if these weeks prove that we can work together as well as ever." Syd returns my look with a sad smile. 

"Which part of our past will be in play, Syd? The harmony or the heartbreak?" the question is largely rhetorical, but I can't help but ask anyway.

"At this point, I think the two are a distinction without a difference. I will always struggle to see you without a mixture of joy and pain.The definition of young love, I suppose." Syd efforts towards a casual shrug as almost as comical as they are sad.

"Don't be flippant with me; I was there for the whole story arc as well. We didn't do a very good job of acting out of the plot of a YA novel. Too much civility and mutual apperciation not enough angst and tantrums." I insist sharply 

Something about her words reminds me too much of my mother's hollow comfort. 

***

"Prepare not to like me very much, Magggie. I don't win many popularity contests in the workplace."

We are sitting outside Dawn Bell's office waiting to present the final findings of the report to her committee. The gathering is more of a formality. Dawn has kept a particularly keen eye on every stage of the process. There were a couple of babies with heart complications in the patient files, which offends the cardiologist on a deep level. The sad thing is that Jason did an amazing job with at least 98% of the cases, most likely using work as something of a distraction. However, none of that work is credit anymore. There are too many points of vulnerability and potential risk. Especially with the public already having concerns about doctors out of control. 

Dawn spends hours; she most likely doesn't have to quiz Syd on the particulars of the fetal heartrates and the danger that they could be in under the guidance of a reckless maverick. Dawn may have her detractors in a hospital that is 'Team Alex' all the way, but Sydney finds a kindred spirit in Dawn's efficiency. They bond over a strange love of spreadsheets and expert paperwork systems. I will confess to being something of a list geek myself, but I have nothing on those two. 

"You do remember that I know you, right? Right from the beginning with Roommate Interrogation Checklist. The prescription in your glasses may be different but I suspect you haven't undergone a complete personality transplant." 

"If my mother could find a way to many such procedures legal. At least in the eyes of the Rabbi, I would have had one of those long ago, at this point she would settle for cloning Becca's temperment." Syd replies without a trace of humour

"I think you will be a brilliant asset to this hospital as you were to every medical school programme. Weren't you always fond of saying 'Obstetrics isn't for babies?' People will hack your pace or they won't, its as simple as that." I say easily knowing my words weren't strictly. 

"Don't get caught up in defending me, Maggie. You are in a delicate part of your training, especially with our unconventional supervision style. You need the nurses and technicians on your side, and many of them may not like me after the first six complaints about standards." Syd warns earnestly. 

"We aren't in the schoolyard, Syd. I can have multiple friends, and nobody is going to whisper about you in my hearing. There is no need to put up with stupid gossip and misconceptions." I argue leaving no room for negotiation, or so I thought. 

"I am a devout Jewish woman with traditional clothing and specific requirements for Fridays and the occasional prayers. Of course, there are going to be rumours about me. I a mystery in this world, a woman of medicine and a sincere faith. You may as well try to stop the tides to people from wondering about me, teasing me. It's the same thing that I face every day, every week." Sydney attempts to sound casual but fails. 

"You aren't going to convince me not to defend you, Syd. There is no point." 

***

"How did it go?"

"The rest of the board is taking a softer approach to Dr Kalfaz that I would advise. Luck and a miracle or two is responsible for keeping most of the babies safe. He was calusness and drunk on the power on being the one that the families saw as a deity on earth. Addiction alone doesn't explain such arrogance. " Sydney says sharply as Alex falls into step with us. 

"So you are still very much in the anger phase of the operation, I see Dr Katz. Not every person has the luxury of a narrow moral compass." Alex points out mildly. 

I flick my gaze between them with no small amount of wariness. There are so many areas of life and medicine where my best friend and former lover clash. Its too simplistic to call Alex a rebel and Syd the rule follower, but it is something of that dynamic. Each of them can set off a reaction in the other. In my humble opinion, stuck in the middle, both doctors represent opposite personalities that trigger insecurities in each other. Alex would willingly play a chaperone between us, but she is too busy getting ready for the baby. 

"It is no secret that he put plenty of patients as well as Maggie's career at risk. From all reports, his substance abuse is far from a short term problem. There need to be definite consequences for such behaviour." Sydney automatically takes up the stance of a debtor getting ready for a challenge. 

"I could give you a dozen studies from this year alone talking about the soaring rates of addiction amongst medical staff, the shame they feel when trying to reach. Prehaps you have heard of a little journal called  _ The Lancet _ ." Alex is equally willing to take up the opposing position. 

"Alex, what you need to know is that our report is finished for the most part. The hospital will not face a huge restructuring at this stage, and I will be available for movie and craving runs." I attempt to divert the topic of conversation. 

Alex knows me well enough to catch the vague desperation in my tone. She may find Sydney Katz ideologically vexing, but she doesn't want to make the situation any worse for me. Alex knows better than most; I will leap in to defend Syd and making me choose unfair, especially in the public setting. 

"How about a treat you both to extremely substandard hospital cafeteria food to celebrate or we can venture a few blocks for the real thing. Anything that keeps Dr Bell happy is worth it, in my opinion." Alex pivots the topic somewhat awkwardly.

"You two have a great time. My sister has been calling me for days. If I don't answer soon, she will send out a search party, complete with multiple members of my family. I swear she believes I cannot function without direct supervision." the joke does not reach her eyes. 

***

"Your mother is calling me on almost a weekly basis."

Alex makes the observation casually as we are sharing lunch in the staff room. There is a particular level of friendship when your parents are comfortable calling the people in your life. Alex didn't even try to reach that stage it just happened naturally. My mother has an instinct for seeing when people were suffering and taking then under her wing. There is likely some residual guilt from her struggles to parent Declan and me during the separation. 

"What are the two of your conspiring about now. Please don't tell me there are murmurings of another surprise party. Declan and I haven't needed a big celebration since we were 14 or so, let my brother continue his travelling in peace." I know what they talked about, but sometimes deflection is worthwhile.

"A red-haired Jewish doctor with extremely firm opinions about mothers and babies in her care. I gather Rosemary does not have a fond opinion of said doctor?" Alex supplies blandly as she cuts into her sandwich. 

"She wasn't even supposed to know that Syd was back in town, but there is some mysterious connection between her volunteer group and the local Rabbi. It wouldn't have taken long to work out they both now doctors working at Hope Zion. I'll message her tonight, so she stops hassling you, sorry Alex." I feel genuinely regretful at the interaction.

"Please, any mother drama that doesn't involve Matha and her wayward journies is a breeze in comparison. At least your mom speaks in complete sentences and doesn't pick up a new guru or two every month. She worries about you with Syd in the picture." Alex waves of my concern with a shrug. 

"I know. Mom never could answer that the idea that a woman could break my heart and  _ not  _ be at fault. For her relationship are black in white in a way that years of therapy couldn't shake. Her liberal, equal rights leanings make it hard for her .to understand the pressures of a conservative lifestyle fully." I explain, waving my hand in frustration. 

"Does she know the extent of what went on between the two of you?" Alex presses gently, never breaking eye contact. 

"It depends largely on what you mean by know, I was never open with the relationship, and she only met Syd a handful of times as my roommate. At the same time, she was the one who held me when Syd left; she saw that Declan was the only one that could drag me out of bed. She knows I haven't dated anyone seriously, apart from Gavin." I shrug helplessly before packing up to get ready for the next shift. 

"Try at least telling her some of that. Self-sufficient, Maggie will do nothing to ease her anxiety as a mother. Trust me, my kid isn't here yet and I already have a thousand worries for him." Alex rubs her belly with affection. 

***

Sydney Katz tackles her first official day on the Hope Zion staff with precision and care. 

Shiloh Grant may be acting as my supervisor by proxy, but I will be shadowing Syd on her rounds for the next two months, providing we can make the dynamic work. On one level nothing could be simpler; we are both medical geeks of the highest order. Over the last few weeks, Syd and I have done nothing but talk about babies and their health. The fact we are shifting to current patients doesn't make a huge difference in terms of the routine. Sydney asks quick-fire questions, and I do my best to answer. 

"It's a mistake to think patients won't lie to you, always listen actively and carefully but trust your medical instincts, trust but verify. There is ridiculous pressure on expectant mothers that falling short is terrifying. The mothers in the wealthier neighbourhoods come up with a different language of lies. What did you notice about Mrs. Canvanaugh?" Syd asks as she walks away briskly. 

"That is not only kale and probiotic yoghart that is giving her the frantic energy to prepare for baby number six and following her paster husband?" I venture, keeping my voice low even though the corridor is empty. 

"Multiple factors I suspect, she was general admission, but I think we need to run a full blood work and page psych. I'll advise Zach that we'll take her on the ward. You can run point since you enjoy talking to families and untangling the human frailty so much." the commands could be either a compliment or critique. 

"Right, I'll start the paperwork. How should I classify the case? is the fetus in immediate danger?" I feel a tinge of dread at the notion. 

"It's hard to say, but all the readings are fine, and her body certainly knows what to do during the six-round. Too often in this work, you are cleaning up the extreme messes. Let's try and stop a case review before it happens. 

In some way being Sydney Katz's student wasn't that much different than being her roommate years ago. She has little patience for people that don't operate at her speak or have an interest in fetal medicine. The standards she sets are exacting, but they are worthwhile for learning. The study habits we learnt together still stay with me to this day. If we didn't have the tangling feelings of heartache and regret the placement would be pleasant and invigorating. The only small mercy here is that I  _ know  _ my heart is on the line in a fool's errand. Syd and I aren't hiding from the world anymore. 

"If got to head home and start studying, between you and Shiloh I will have a working knowledge of every major procedure in the field. It's a toss-up which of you has the highest standards." I say as we reach the nurse's station. 

"Be careful. You need to remember that your limits will not be the same as they were even earlier in the year. There is nothing medically worrisome but time to heal is never a bad thing. We want you as a specialist in the field, not a burnt-out student with potential." 

Sydney blinks at me in genuine concern, and I can see her mentally reviewing all the assignments Shiloh is planning. On paper, Syd and Shiloh do not compare notes about me, and both doctors are scrupulously ethical. However, my former lover would not hesitate to intervene if she thinks I am in trouble. If there is one thing, Sydney Katz is brilliant at, its finding ways to care for those with a place in her heart. 

***

I should know better than to slip into a comfortable routine. 

It's the end of Sydney's first week, and despite her dire predictions, her time at Hope Zion is successful so far. She is hardcore and demands much from the staff and families alike. However, everybody on the floor is still in shock over Jason and the risks he took. Most of the direct team under Syd feel perfectly willing to take her direction, even if it means relearning tasks and checking procedures at least three times. I am right behind the use of stationary and lists. Syd challenges me more than any other student or nurse, some would see this as an unfair punishment, but I enjoy rising to the challenge. Sydney enjoys complete explanations and insists on me reviewing everything in painstaking and sometimes too much detail. 

Its Sydney's quietness one day that sets alarm bells ringing. We are going through the motions of rounds on the ward. Dr Katz is nothing but efficient and polite with the patients, but she doesn't ask me a single extra question or chide me for spending too much time with the families or learning the names of the older siblings. 

"What's going on, Syd. You have barely said too words to me, even when I brought coffee to Mr Simpson and his wife in Room 10. Normally I expect the start of a lectue on time management and emotional investement." I try to tease her into bantering with me. 

Sydney doesn't say anything for long moments. We continue walking down into the staff carpark after signing out for the shift. Ordinarily, Syd would stay for a decent, handover but tonight she did the bare minimum. I wasn't going to leave until she gave something resembling an answer. Maybe she senses this fact because she doesn't try to turn me away merely waits until we have a semblance of privacy before speaking. Her tone is worryingly flat. 

"My parents will not be put off any longer. They want me to have a serious meeting with the matchmaker and hear her suggestions. To them allow me even that measure of freedom is the high of progressiveness. Normally it would be the relatives doing the first steps. At least they are willing to bend that little bit for their stubborn eldest daughter."

"What are you going to do?" I ask softly, not bothering with all the objections that are stuck in my throat. 

"Meet the matchmaker, of course. There are only so many times I can use work or patients as an excuse. Marriage and family is the centre of their universe." 

"But you can't make this future husband happy or yourself. Lying at this stage can only compound the pain. You know this Sydney, a marriage with a lie as a foundation cannot thrive." I try to keep the tears from my voice. 

"It wouldn't be such a lie if we both start with a basis in faith. I will at least meet the prospective matches; maybe I will find a miracle." 

The lie sits between us heavily as always. 


	5. Neshama I

_ "Just don't tell 'em I've gone crazy _

_ That I'm still strung out over you _

_ Tell 'em anything you want to _

_ Just don't tell 'em all the truth _

_ Yeah don't tell 'em all the truth _

_ The truth is that I'm asking you to lie _

_ And we both know that it ain't right _

_ But if you ever loved me please _

_ Have some mercy on me _

_ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"  _

Sydney's ghost is a beautiful woman. 

It takes me a second to make the connection. Even for somebody who loves the specialist dearly and desperately Sydney Katz never reveals much about the past. We were intimate in every sense of the word, and I know countless details about her life, community and her abiding love for the people that cannot or will not reciprocate. Still, the story of Neshma and accidentally outing her (and possibly them both) comes slowly and haltingly months into our relationship. I happen to catch a picture of the taller girl with curly hair and laughing eyes in one of the synagogue group shots Syd pretends not to treasure. 

The woman in front of me looks very similar to the girl who unknowingly broke Sydney's heart. Neshama looks older and hopefully happier under the attention of her worried wife. Their nervous chatter about being there for Ruth's grandfather's ceremony gives me an unexpected pang. Syd would do almost anything to have a connection to her faith and the ability to live her life as a gay woman. Still, the liberal lefty in me will never begrudge somebody happiness after such adversity. 

"I need your help..."

Alex Reid is the type of friend who doesn't hesitate when she hears such words. We would typically consult on such a case, especially with the possibility of appendicitis with such a rare pregnancy. However, I need both Dr Reid and Alex, my best friend. Luckily it's practically a requirement at Hope Zion to have the ability to perform both roles. Besides, Alex's radar is up with the whole Syd staying the night thing. 

"Syd and the patient we are about to consult on share a painful past. If my hunches are right, we are going to need her before the end of the stay. 

"Surely your Jewish Hurricane of Denial and Quips can act professionally?" She will go mad for the chance to consult on such a rare case if nothing else." Alex's voice takes on a hard edge. 

"It's the type of hurt that involves active shunning and death rites for gay children that are still very alive and hurting, not so simple." I say quietly 

"Oh God, we'll divide and conquer. Tag team the initial consultation before you go and give Katz the heads up. She and Shiloh are friendly, aren't they? Maybe we can avoid inflicting any more pain."

I feel my heart swell with love for my best friend. For all her doubts about motherhood, she will be the type of parent who will go to every PFLAG meeting on offer. 

*** 

The truth is I have been following Alex's advice. 

Sydney has little choice but to meet with the matchmaker and the chosen groom. While I understand reality, it still hurts far too much. Even though I have many relationships and was planning a future with Gavin and the baby we lost. Somehow all the hurts and wounds of my previous heartaches, even Dad dying doesn't feel the same. I suspect that the pain will still be the same in 2 years to 2 decades. Her stint at Hope Zion only confirms this belief. 

My relationship with Sydney constitutes a unique kind of pain that still aches in the deep part of my soul. Doctors spend so much time tending the physical and emotional wounds of patients that they struggle to look after themselves. The Hope Zion Family is uniquely a hive of relationship drama and emotional entanglements. Mom would be horrified to see how complicated her daughter's life is during training. 

My therapist is tactfully suggesting that I put some boundaries in place with Sydney on a personal level and not fall into what she tactfully calls 'a passionate friendship with blurred lines' which is a diplomatic way of talking about a lesbian relationship cliche. I can't figure out of it is a good or bad thing that Sydney makes my distancing so easy and seems to avoid me with equal ease. 

"Hey Syd, I need to talk to you about something a little tricky." I try to keep my voice calm. 

Sydney looks up and blinks at me from behind her neat wireframe glasses. I pretend to know that the fat binder in front of her is a likely a Jewish wedding planning book, complete with colours, post-it notes and fabric samples. When we were together, Sydney talked with awe about her delight in Jewish ceremonies and the heritage. For all the complications and secrecy, Sydney Katz is a devout woman, and she finds comfort in the fabric of her faith. 

"From all accounts, you are doing incredibly well with the caseload, Dr Lin. Shiloh is coming as close to seeing your praises as she ever gets, I haven't heard about anything sticky." Sydney seems hard to match her tone. 

"My new patient is a Jewish woman. Her baby has Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia. She is experiencing significant back and abdominal pain, Alex is ruling about appendices and other issues. That's not the issue though..." 

Sydney waves her hand in an impatient gesture. At that moment, I am like any other student that is failing to meet her standards. She wants me to get to the point without delay. I move further into the room and take the seat across from her, resisting the urge to reach out and grab her hand. At the moment she blurs together as both the senior doctor on the floor and my former lover. 

"The woman is your Neshama and her wife, Ruth. They are going to need a level of OBGYN care and support but I know this could present difficulties for both you and her." my voice catches at the last words. 

The reaction is everything that I fear. Sydney is already pale, and she starts to look sickly. Her hands begin to tremble, where she grips the binder hard. It takes her several moments to compose herself enough to speak without betraying her tears. Even with me, she doesn't feel comfortable displaying vulnerability in the workplace. I wish that she could go home or to Temple, where she would find comfort and understanding, but what I know of the situation leads me to believe she will be alone in her grief and regret. Her adoration of Neshama and the shameful secret, I could probably count on one hand the number of people who know, less who approve. 

"Alex will deal with the infection. You will monitor the baby, I am surplus to requirements." Sydney says firmly. 

***

Syd's optimistic hope about us shadow doctoring works for a while, but the baby has other plans. Neshama is getting sicker and displaying all the concerning signs. 

"I need you in the room." I jog to catch of with Syd as she strides down the corridors of the L&D floor. 

Sydney blinks at me in vague confusion and hunches protectively around the folder in her hands. There can be no doubt which patient I am talking about; there is no other situation where I would interrupt her rounds. For the most part, we are still avoiding each other in all but name. Neshama has been a patient in Hope Zion for a little over 36 hours, and yet it feels far longer. 

I am juggling the opinions between Syd, Alex and Shiloh Grant remotely. Of course, as a junior doctor asking as a runner is not outside the job description. Frankly, the baby is the simple part of that scenario. Syd has views on everything, but she communicates them indirectly with additions to notes and late-night texts. Her insomnia isn't getting any better with this development. In a way, I think that saving Neshema's baby and her new is a strange way of acting out penance.

"There is nothing that I can do differently; Neshma will protest my presence there. It is the patient's right to choose or reject a medical professional. The Canadian courts have affirmed this right on multiple occasions." Syd insists her tone is frosty and clipped. 

"Well, the baby isn't sticking to our well-designed plan, the fetal vital signs are pushing the boundaries of the normal range and its probably Jewish pride that is keeping her from wincing every three seconds. The medication is no longer working. " I try and explain while reaching out to grab her arm. 

"Shiloh..." 

"Dr Grant is fantastic, but to my knowledge, she hasn't invented the time machine with the ability to get here any fasters. Both the baby and Neshma could be in real trouble before she even enters the providence. There is no way you want to add that level to your Jewish guilt about the past." my words cross the line between personal and professional relationship. 

Sydney regards me for a long silent moment, not even noticing that several of the nurses are giving us curious looks. Jackson is hovering in the corner protectively waiting to intervene or summon Alex. He is one of the few people that has been through all my heartaches and trials even though we aren't the closest friends. Normally Sydney Katz would wince at the accidental publicity. But right now all her focus is on me and what I am saying. 

Anybody who spends more than 5 minutes in our presence can recognise that something is going on between us. Somehow I have got worse at hiding my feelings over the years rather than better. My stoic mother is weighing heavily on me and her disappointment that my heart is on the line again. 

"Okay, if you can get Neshma agree to see me I will consult on the case." Syd agrees with a sigh. 

***

"Neshama and Ruth, I need to talk to you about something. For the moment the baby is fine, but we need to bring a staff OBGYN to check a few things."

I am stretching the truth somewhat; everything is fine for the moment. However, the baby is still in a fragile state and could change at any moment. I wouldn't say I like the vital signs that are blinking on the monitors. However, my primary concern is the two women holding each other and trying to look at me with bravery, but both their eyes are full of worry. Their marriage seems like a good one, Ruth dotes on her wife and seems protective. I surmise that they met soon after the shunning; the happiness between them is hard-earned and worth cherishing. 

Neshama is lovely and charming to all the staff, from the cleaners to each of the junior doctors. If she was anything like this as a teenager, it is little wonder that she was Syd's first crush. It's a surreal experience to be face to face with the woman who I only knew in the abstract. Of course, she doesn't know that we share a connection. If I could shield Syd from ever seeing this woman again, I would do it in a heartbeat, but there is a need for greater duty. 

"Why are you looking so serious and sitting down. A doctor sitting down is never a good thing. Where are these doctors?" Ruth hurls the questions at me. 

"Ruthie, give the doctor a chance to speak, sitting down isn't a crime or a sign." Neshama reaches out a hand to comfort her wife and the easy intimacy stings somewhere deep. 

"We are fortunate to have two of the best specialists living locally, and both are familiar with your baby's condition. One is here, and the other is flying back from a conference. With the pain you are in, I would rather not risk you heading back to Montreal or waiting for Dr Grant, who is the prefered choice." I explain keeping my voice even. 

"What is wrong with the second doctor, why are you hedging your bets? Is he antsemetic? Homophic?" the activist in Neshma is starting to sound suspicious. 

"No! Definitely nothing like that, on both counts. Hope Zion has strict policies on such things." I cannot help but bark a nervous laugh. 

"Then get the doctor in here, quick stalling." Ruth sounds like she is about cry. 

"It's not that simple. You know this doctor, Neshama. You share a history, and it is far from pleasant. I would trust her with my life and the life of any baby. Our staff OBYN is Dr Sydney Katz." I confess in a rush. 

" ** NO!  ** Over my dead body is that woman coming near me or my baby, we'll wait for the other doctor!" Neshama looks ready to bolt from the bed. 

"Nesh..." Ruth tries reaching for her wife's hand. 

"It's not happen." 

"Neshama, how dare you take such casual risk with your life and the life of our baby, so soon after my Bidi's death." Ruth is openly crying now. 

"Ruth..."

"Dr Lin has been with us this whole time, if she says we need Dr Katz than we need this doctor, I am not letting your stubborn pride and hurt get in the way of our miricle." Ruth turns to me and nods her head. 

"My wife will be seeing sense by the time you page, Dr Katz. Please tell her to come at the earliest convenience. I will control my wife's urge to snap and yell. 

I leave the scene of that future domestic dispute as fast as I possibly can. 

***

Ruth's faith in her ability to keep the peace is a little misplaced. 

"Still the start pupil in every setting, aren't you Syd? Do people still swoon over your every move and sub-par-baking efforts?" Neshama is mocking and tense.

"Neshama, quiet insulting the doctor who is working to save our baby. We aren't exactly overflowing with options, As Dr Lin was kind enough to explain to us 6 or 7 times." Ruth says an edge of genuine frustration in her voice. 

"You know what she did to me, Ruth there is no forgiving that!" Neshama has enough sense not to out her former friend by proxy. 

To anybody who doesn't know her, Sydney Katz appears to be fine with the exchange. Her movements and commands are the definitions of professional. I am the only one who can see the tightening of her shoulders and the odd sheen of tears behind her glasses. I am struggling not to run interference and defend Sydney. After all, I was the one that tried (and mostly failed) to pick up the pieces of that horrible time for Sydney. 

Its a toss-up to see which is worse. Dealing with a child with a life-threatening condition or watching two angry Jewish woman scrap. To be fair, the situation is mainly Syd focusing on the baby and Neshama snipping. Still, Syd is not going to win any prizes for her bedside manner. There are short tempers during every meeting, and I learn to schedule them at the end of the day. Oddly enough it isn't Ruth or me who finally snaps at the two of them. 

"Do you honestly think you are the only who can compete at the crappy childhood Olympics? It seems to me like you dodged a proverbial bullet escaping those judgement people who were willing to throw you out, not the scared 17 year old kid told on you..." Alex is truly angry now, but she stays articulate. 

"How dare you! My father said, Shiva..." Neshama begins her voice rising 

"Dr Reid.." Sydney begins warningly freezing in front of the monitor. 

"No! Your parents wounded you beyond measure,  ** not  ** this woman. Sydney Katz is a controlling pain in the arse with negigiable social skills, but she is a fantastic doctor. Patients move cities and hesmispheres to see her. They pray for a tenth of the attention your baby has gotten in the last few days. Sydney is killing herself trying to manage you on top of her caseload. All you can do is bully and demean her because neither of you had any agency with crappy parenting." Alex looms rather menacingly over the woman in the hospital bed. 

Neshama has enough sense not to respond and waits for Alex to finish before nodding meekly. Ruth looks about ready to start a cheer squad. Part of me envies Alex for being about to say all that without getting caught up in emotion. My past with Syd would get in the way if I tried something similar. In a way, I am the closest witness to the other side of the rejection equation. Loving a woman who will put aside everything to please a community. 

"Can we get back to the examination now? I am not happy with the fever you are spiking, and constantly feeding sick isn't a good sign. With any luck, you will get your wish, and someone else will deliver your baby." Sydney keeps her voice painfully neutral. 

"Dr Katz..." Ruth begins her words sounding pleading and placating. 

"There is nothing that we need to relitigate here, everyone here and half the patients on this ward knows the situation. There is a baby here that deserves our undivided attention." 

"You never could lie well, Sydney. Is my baby going to die? Am I too sick to keep her safe?" Neshama asks her tone respectful and cautious, barely above a whisper. 

"Dr Reid isn't wrong. I will do everything in my power to keep you both well. Whatever my past transgressions, Neshama. Healing babies is my life's work and the vehicle through which I express my faith. I see miracles every day." Sydney ends the phrasing with a string of Hebrew. 

Neshama watches her silently, her eyes welling with tears, something unspoken passes between them that wasn't quite a forgiveness but softened the hostility. For once I wish my lessons in Hebrew weren't so haphazard. 

***

In the end, Shiloh Grant saves the day with a little emergy paperwork from Dawn Bell. We are seconds away from scrubbing while waiting for the techs to finish getting Neshma ready. This medical crisis is the type where seconds matter. 

"Let's see if you've got the same metal in the operating room as you do on the wards, Dr Lin. We have a job to do here, and there is no time to waste." Dr Shiloh Grant rushes towards us at a jog, trying a scrap cab. 

Syd and I turn in unison to look at the woman in genuine surprise. My principal supervisor is a tall woman of Jamaican descent, whose accent is a mixture of her current home and her roots. She has a reputation for being hard and unyielding but devoted to her patients and students. I enjoy her challenging questions and unusual scenarios, she is making me a better doctor and potential specialist. Sydney was right when she said I would learn more without the distraction of our romantic feelings for each other. 

"Oh Shiloh you are here!" 

Sydney launches herself rather awkwardly into Shiloh's arms in a desperate hug that has more emotion than coordination behind it. There is almost a comical difference in their heights, and Syd is barely able to complete the mechanics of the embrace. The F2 trailing Shiloh is gaping at the scene in genuine astonishment. Sydney's relieved almost childlike cry probably doesn't jell with the fearsome Dr Katz who destroys med students. I fight the urge to stand protectively beside her. As much as I want to, there some things I cannot protect her from, including such judgements. 

"Of course I am here, Sydney. We are a small group and look out for each other; much of the credit belongs to the administer. Now go to the observation room. I have been looking after these babies almost longer than you'd been alive." Shiloh returns the hug quickly but firmly. 

"Dr Lin, you can brief me on the particulars of the set up when we scrub in, who are the OR team?" Shiloh pulls me along in her wake with the other students. 

***

"Do you want to know what the sadest and desperate part of the whole situation is?" Syd asks her voice hollow and weak. 

A part of me doesn't want to listen, but Sydney needs somebody to listen and not judge. I am sitting with the other doctor by the observation window. Shiloh and her students are the ones finishing up. It's part of the deal for her rushing over is that her students get to have a hands-on approach to a relatively rare case. Besides, Neshma and Ruth need the opportunity to interact with doctors who are not part of their past or future. 

"Of course you can talk to me about anything you want, Syd." I whisper gently. 

"I am still mourning the life that you offered me, for all my talk about your miscarriage, I cannot take the same advice. Looking at Neshama and Ruth, all I see is a Dickensen moment. When I see both the ghosts of past and yet to come, waiting for the play to end." Sydney looks back at me with tears in her eyes. 

"There is a hopeful and central theme to that story, Syd. The present can get better. Nobody is stuck in a single state of reality." I force the words out. 

"Only for those that are brave enough to change. Somewhere I don't think somebody who is contemplating going through with a sham marriage to a perfectly decent young scholar falls into the fable. There are limits to forgiveness and acceptance, after all." Syd tries for the hint of dry humour, but it fails miserably. 

"I think the great writer is speaking some fairly universal truths, could you be happy with this man, Sydney, truly? As happy as Neshma and Ruth are?"

"That's not fair and needlessly cruel, Maggie. You know the choice is not that simple." 

"What's cruel is fate dropping you back into my life, just when I was 90% over our time together. Watching you get ready said sham marriage no fun for me either. Don't think I don't recognise that folder you carry like a lift vest..." 

"I can talk to Dawn about transfering..." there are a catch and hitch in her voice. 

"Don't you dare, I am not losing the chance to learn under you even if it hurts. See out the full contract. There is no sense in backing out now." I snap not bothering to hide the level of pain or hurt.

The outside of an operating room is a horrible time for this conversation. We are both tired and overworked, still steeping on eggshells around each other. If my therapist were here, either of them, they would be waving the stop signs and talking about distance and emotion regulation. Yet staying away from this woman hardly did me any good. Maybe this is the best of a bad set of choices. 

Before I can expand or ruminate on that point, any further Sydney strides forward and pulls me into a fierce kiss. There is no expectation that we keep things sterile out here, which is a good thing because this is far from a chaste kiss. For the first time in 5 years, I begin to thread my hands through those long red strains. She cups my face as if trying to memorise the changes in my face in the intervening years. It takes me a second to realise she is crying silent tears. 

"It would horrify the people in our Women's studies class to know this, but I needed to redefine my expectations and notions of happiness about 4.7 seconds after I left you." Sydney whispers as she pulls away. 

I can't summon the words to protest as she walks away, just like last time. 


	6. Psychics and Certainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the characters in my different works are particularly stages in canon, it may change how they behave at different points.

"There is neither happiness nor misery in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another, nothing more. He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life. 

"Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, 'Wait and Hope." 

― Alexandre Dumas

Sydney Katz meets her future husband. 

I am not good at sports metaphors or metaphorical language in general, that's more Charlie's department or some of the more idealistic med students. However, I have been bracing for the impact of this news for weeks now. Syd is deeply conflicted about her faith and sexuality, but that will not stop her from meeting with potential matches. The matchmaker has been a fundamental part of Katz marriages for generations. If my former roommate still ties herself to this community, she cannot escape the process entirely. Her parents will have the perfect son-in-law in mind and will use family loyalty ties for all they are worth. The old cliche about forks in the road isn't true if you have people forcing you in one direction alone. 

Predictably Alex is outraged that Syd hasn't talked to me directly, for all I know she has tried, but avoidance is easier at this point. We have enough mutual friends that I am the involuntary recipient of way too much information. To be fair to them, few of our friends know that Syd and I were in a relationship. Their casual mentions of the new developments may hurt, but they do not mean to inflict pain. Most are genuinely curious about how such a progressive woman of science and champion of women's rights, can reconcile such a world view; such opinions underestimate both Syd's faith and the ability to compartmentalise. Besides, religion was once an ally for science and can be again. 

"Are you okay Dr Lin?" Ruth's gentle voice pulls me from my thoughts. 

Sydney Katz welds every bit of her powers and influence to convince Hope Zion and Dawn Bell that Neshama needs to stay a few extra days. Neither party is especially thrilled by the notion. There is no way anything is happening to that baby on the way to Montreal. Luckily Syd and her former friend reach something of a tacit understanding. Neshama and Ruth are too caught up with their miracle baby give energy to old grief. By unspoken agreement (continuing our trend) I am looking after this new family for the next few shifts.

"Sorry about that Ruth, my mind got away from me. Everything is looking good. You'll be able to collect discharge papers on schedule. Neshama's blood pressure and other vital signs are stable." I do my best to plaster a reassuring smile. 

"Can you please tell Sydney she can stop avoiding this floor during the waking hours, it must be disrupting her schedule. Dr Reid was right to accuse me of misplacing the blame. We do enough work with youth that I should have more empathy for her impossible position." Neshama says tiredly not taking her eyes from the baby. 

"Believe me, Dr Katz is visiting with all her patients and juggling teaching duties. To my knowledge, she isn't actively avoiding seeing you. It's customary for doctors on her rotation to do the discharge work. Shiloh Grant will have the final sign off." I lie with almost absolute conviction. 

"We truly are beyond fortunate to have such amazing doctors working to save our little girl. I promise to follow the instructions to the letter." Neshama says faithfully. 

"As if Ruth here will let you do any differently. Your wife puts some of our interns to shame, in terms of her preparation. Seeing you with a happy and healthy baby is what this ward is all about." the cliche answer comes easily at the moment. 

The conversation is light and easy, everything that interactions with these types of patients’ needs to be. Dr Sydney Katz will not doubt approve of me leaving emotions at the door. Right now I would take interacting with a professional colleague over a former lover any day.

***

The last thing this hospital or staff needs is psychic or supernatural overtures. 

The Great Randall is something of a mystery in the staff room and the wards. He is facing a host of serious complications, but he is focusing all his energy outwards. Many people try similar tricks as a form of denial, but not many invite quite so many people to their bedside. I think this man is profoundly lonely and using the placebo effect to his advantage in keeping people's attention. Between managing the final workup on Neshema and trying hard not to let Sydney Katz break my heart again, I don't have time for such speculation. 

"Your life has been in something of a holding pattern for a while now, Lin. What could it hurt to hear a different prospective?" Jackson asks over lunch somehow the man knows everything about everyone. 

"It could hurt the patient's plenty if the doctor they respect gives credence to a man who is looking for attention during scary days. Let's not forget we are dealing with multiple sick people in this equation." I give him a reprimanding look, there is no honest annoyance behind exchange. 

"Randall is charming, and he gives people hope when they need it the most. All I hear coming from his room is laughter and banter." Cassie defends, her perspective is predictable. 

"Laughter is the best medicine only if the actual treatment has a chance to work in parallel. Shift schedules are almost impossible to keep at the best of times, much less with an amateur play therapist on the ward." I hope they turn the topic of conversation to something else. 

"You sound almost exactly like Dr Katz, not that she says much nowadays beyond barking out orders and criticising work." Jackson quips with a shrug but his look is now sharp with understanding.

"Well, perhaps you should listen to your two colleagues over the incoherent ramblings of a man with multiple personas as well as predictions." I snap before getting up and clearing the remains of my language. 

"Perhaps you need to have more faith, Dr Lin. We see plenty of miracles every day, let people find hope where they may." Jackson says with an encouraging smile. Thankfully he leaves his insights there. 

Jackson wouldn't dream of hurting me, but his word choice hits home. Faith is a tricky word when the notion unintentionally dominates your life. Sydney Katz torments herself with the idea of living up to her faith principles, at the same time, sacrificing everything that doesn't meet the standard. I don't need to know scripture well to understand that Syd treads and impossible line. Perhaps the greatest fear with the Great Randall is that he will see things we are trying to hide after all. I suspect you don’t need to be a man with psyche powers to see my feelings for Syd. 

***

"Oh Dr Quinn..." 

I feel a grimace of irritation at not managing to avoid this man entirely. However, as a junior doctor on rotation, I can't exclusively lurk in my chosen domain forever. People are buzzing about the Great Randall and the accuracy of his predictions. The man is delaying proper treatment to give out tarot card readings to people. A shallow part of me cannot help but be curious, even if this man is somebody who peddles in false hope. I hope he isn't foolish enough to go against Dr Sydney Katz. If there is one thing that women can't stand, it's people who market in false hope and promises. 

"Broke up with your shrink, huh?" the question is cheerful and obnoxiously loud. 

The main reason I entirely the room is to prevent him from shouting out the door. There is no shame in going to a therapist, but there is equally no need to broadcast a lucky guess. The chances of a doctor seeing professional help during the stress of the final placement years are high. The man is a good reader of people nothing more. There are plenty of rational explanations for everything that he can uncover or reveal to the willing. Statistically even the wildest guesses are going to be right some of the time. 

At the same time, if I have first-hand knowledge about this man's dealings, I can head off impressionable students. Therapist #1 and #2 have done enough work to not fall for his usual tricks and cold readings. There is one subject that will shut him up. I may even send him a cup of fancy coffee in the end. 

"My love life, do your worst." I challenge with slightly more false bravado. 

"Well, I can see the presence of a cat, do you have a cat, Dr Lin?" Randall asks by way of nothing. 

"Well I'm going to be a crazy cat lady, I know they call this a cold reading, but that is _**cruel**_ or just cheap ploy from stalking me on the internet." I pass off the shiver that runs down my spine. 

"Your heart is caught in the past. In an extreme tangle with a cat? It would be best if you broke that particular deadlock. Doctors should know about stress on the heart, right?" Randall frowns at the dice again, almost talking to himself. 

"Again, with the references to my Instagram and predictable hashtags. Why don't we just admit I will be alone forever and leave things there." 

The rest of our little dialogue is predictable. Randall offers to lift the curse and heal me. I tactfully refuse and proceed on my way to do the real healing. My mind is rational enough not to believe that this man or mystic has a blinding insight into my relationship with Sydney Katz. Heartache is easy enough to read on people if you know where to look for it. The words still resonate at a fundamental level. My amygdala and hippocampus are getting actual work out. 

"Some lost loves are with fighting for Dr Lin. None of my ex-wives will back me up on this point, but maybe you are being pulled in a single direction for a reason. The limbo is only fun when you are on a cruise ship, even then its overrated." The Great Randall calls out as I leave the room. 

I try extremely hard to make a move look purposeful rather than evidence that I am fleeing his words' truth. The students can have their readings for all I care. 

***

"Is it true that a 'psychic' went up against Sydney on matters of scripture?" Neshama puts an almost comparable level of scorn in her voice. 

"That's the rumour, doubt he will make that mistake again." I say trying to keep my voice light but professional. 

Almost against my will, I am starting to like Neshama. Once the fear of her baby's congenital condition eases, the true person starts to emerge. It's easy to see why Sydney fall for her as a young, impressionable teenager. The adult version, who is so clearly in love with her wife is charming and appealing. Most importantly, from my perspective, she seems genuinely remorseful about lashing out at Syd in such a hurtful way. 

A small part of me hopes that seeing both Ruth and Neshma will give Syd peace, if not as an adult than for the teen tormented with guilt. If it didn't hurt so much, we could resume our lunches and work all this through. I may have broken up with Therapist #1 and #2, but I know that opening myself up to such experiences right now is a terrible idea. We are both in emotionally vulnerable places and do not need the added complication of past feelings making things worse. 

"Please, can you try and convince Sydney to see me before we go, Dr Lin. I can't realise that everything is perfectly fine or that we will be lifelong friends in exile. I at least want to ease her burdens from the past. The Katz family expectations will be heavy enough without such ghosts." Neshama is earnest and struggles to sit up.

"Easy Nish, we talked about getting up too fast." Ruth frets while rising from her chair as well. 

"Isn’t that the truth. I'll let Syd know you want to see her. Please try and rest. You are better but not completely well. I muster my best professional doctor tone. 

"Hopefully she can have a long and productive future, saving more miracle babies. Sydney Katz doesn't belong in those restrictions any more comfortably than I do, maybe I can show her that faith can take many forms." Neshama finishes the point mainly to herself. 

"I'll be back with your paperwork and discharge instructions. There is a copy with your primary doctor in Montreal. He can arrange any follow up from there. 

Part of me feels a great temptation to confess everything. If anybody can unpick this particular situation, it might be the two people in front of me. They will have a greater understanding of Syd's pain, especially the pressure to find the right husband. At the same time, I want to protect Sydney's privacy, which I did when we were students. The fierce, powerful woman is also the terrified kid new to the programme, trying to navigate impossible worlds. I can't easily violate that trust even when the lines blur between patient and doctor. I can no more look for hope here than with the Great Randall. 

***

"Tell me what you most love about her?" 

The words from Alex take me by surprise. I texted her at the end of my shift with firm instructions that she couldn't get angry at Sydney Katz. My expectations when arriving at her apartment revolve around wine, junk food and bad movies. Alex is on something of a health kick ever since she started reading about potential pregnancy complications. However, she tends to make an exception for her best friend in need. Alex Reid may have many flaws and be a bureaucratic headache, but Alex is a wonderful friend. She guides me to the coach and lets me rest my head on her shoulder. 

"Making her smile was the highlight of any week. Syd was always so serious and earnest, trying to be the best at everything. It felt like the biggest achievement if she relaxed enough, to smile and enjoy something truly without the constant worry lines. Some of the happiest moments were nothing special or noteworthy beyond the fact that Syd didn't have the weight of the world pinning her down." I whisper against her shoulder. 

"Tell me about some of your favourite memories from that time?" Alex encourages rubbing my other side soothingly. 

"There is nothing overly scandalous to share. We would go on these long walks and talk about the future. Syd always wanted to make big changes, save the world type. She was still an insomniac, and the fresh air helped. We would lie awake in her ridiculously uncomfortable hobbit bed and chat about nothing till she fell asleep. Is it pathetic that I miss that sleeping arrangement that most likely did permanent damage to my spine?" I ask rhetorically. 

"I am **not** in a position to judge such things. You were the first person who held me together in the early days after the accident." Alex points with a bark of laughter. 

"I may ask Shiloh for a permanent shift to her rotation. In terms of the OBGYN placement, I am at Hope Zion in name only anyway. We can't go on like this without picking at old wounds that are best left alone. " I confess in an awkward tumble of words. 

"I am sure Dr Ray is serious about asking you out if you want to give it a try?" Alex offers without much hope in her voice. 

"There is moving on, and then there is just putting the man through inevitable pain." I say with a shake of my head. 

Alex doesn't push the point or offer to matchmake any of her friends from med school. She knows now, probably better than I do, that sorting out my feelings for Sydney Katz is the key point to 'moving on.' Right now, she is having a crisis both personally and spiritually. That Great Randall and the ongoing presence of Neshma is bringing things to ahead. Including our feelings on the past, present and future. Avoiding Sydney Katz is only making me more of an insomniac and leading to me fighting with my mother. Not an enticing prospect when my mother is a senior lecturer and will challenge casual denials. 

***

"You are making the students’ lives miserable, let them have their fun with Randall " 

"I will no doubt have a litany of complaints on my evaluation forms. It would almost be worth the rap on the wrist if it kept people away from the peddler of false hope." Sydney says sharply keeping her voice clipped and professional. 

I mean the comment as a light-hearted reference to the physic. As is predictable with us, my timing is off. Syd is coming out of Neshama and Ruth's room or one of the neighbouring patients. Her posture is stiff and determined. Only when I race to catch up and fall into step, realise she is fighting back the tears. Strangely it is a relief to see some genuine emotion rather than the forceful energy, trying to convince people she is doing okay. A heartbroken Sydney Katz is sadly more familiar to mean than the variation of the last few weeks. 

The note I left in her locker encouraged her to see her former friend after all. I make the split-second decision to follow her instead of doing a final ward round. All the patients are stable at the moment, and we have an excellent charge nurse. I don't respond until we are out of the hospital and in the semi-privacy of the car park's far corner. To her credit, Syd doesn't try and back away or rush off with the excuse of having another appointment. It's Friday, so she will be late for temple services if my calendar memory is still accurate. We stand by her car for several long moments. 

"How did it go with Neshma and Ruth?" I ask, eventually keeping my voice at a whisper. 

"It was everything I could hope for and most certainly don't deserve. Despite what Alex thinks, being 17 doesn't absolve me from agency. I knew the little consequences of telling my mother, including the possibility of them saying, Shiva." Sydney grinds out the words out almost angrily. 

"Syd..." I try interrupting gently. 

"What do you want to know, Maggie? That I met a wonderful and decent man, who could make the perfect husband? That he knows more about you than his future wife because you are the first thing I think about when I'm nervous? That it feels simultaneously wonderful and crushing to have my family joyously planning for a future, I can't give them? Pick a topic, Maggie, since you are so eager to talk?" Sydney is almost yelling hoarsely at the end. 

"Focus on breathing, Syd; you need to stop and breathe. Nothing is going get any clearer if you start to panic." I gently turn her around to focus on me. 

Sydney is no stranger to anxiety attacks. They were her frequent companions when we were younger and going through the worst of the med school exams. Her issues were one reason we become closer, working together, so neither of us burns out physically or psychologically. Reprising that role comes naturally as I mimic slowing breathing deeply for her, forcing Syd's wild and erratic attention onto me. Fortunately, we catch the wave of emotion early before it can take a true hold. 

"I can't marry Hershel, Maggie. It will cost me everything, but I can't marry him. It was the easier choice when I left, but now it’s an impossible reality. Hershel Hoffman deserves more than to slowly grow to hate me in 5, 10 or 15 years. Better now than when we have the ties of children." Sydney whispers her tone nothing short of absolutely broken. 

"Then that is what you will do, and that God you love so much will not forsake one of his most faithful servants. Isn't that what's Ruth and Neshma's story is all about? Showing that faith can change form but not lose its foundations." I am scrambling for knowledge here, but at least she is looking calmer and a heather colour. 

"Okay." Sydney replies, almost like a biddable child. 

Unexpectedly she turns and flings her arms around me in one of her achingly familiar bone-crushing hugs. For somebody so little, she has strength in her muscles. It's almost automatically to cradle her to me and start whispering a string of comforting nonsense. Sydney Katz is far too good at crying alone and not expecting anyone to try and make things better. Our relationship may be a complete mess, but something is worth getting hurt for, even with all the warnings. Alex is right in a way, Sydney left me in name only, we are still fighting the tie. The Great Randall deserves his stupid drink after all. 


	7. Translation

_ "Sorry  _

_ Is all that you can't say  _

_ Years gone by and still  _

_ Words don't come easily  _

_ Like sorry, like sorry _

_ Forgive me _

_ Is all that you can't say  _

_ Years gone by and still  _

_ Words don't come easily  _

_ Like forgive me, forgive me _

_ I love you  _

_ Is all that you can't say  _

_ Years gone by and still _

_ Words don't come easily  _

_ Like I love you, I love you _

_ But you can say baby  _

_ Baby, can I hold you." _

Tracey Chapman - Baby Can I Hold You 

I like Rebecca Freedmen, Katz when I knew her. A fondness doesn't mean meeting her in secret is a good idea. 

"Thank you for talking to me, Dr Lin, and inviting me here to talk privately." 

Habit and lifelong etiquette have me wanting to say that inviting this woman to my home is no problem, but the lie feels wrong in my mouth. Maybe the interactions with the Great Randall have more an impact on me than I thought. 

Sydney's sister shows up at the hospital, asking to see me after my shift. Having a relative for a doctor makes it easier for her to predict such things and be minimally disruptive to the work schedule. Syd and her sister are close or were when I knew them. Rebecca was always polite and friendly each time we met a dozen times over the cause for med school. Even though she could never be open with her family about loving me, Syd didn't hide me or make up elaborate stories about why I was there, which is good because Syd is only a good liar when she doesn't have to say anything. The Katz family denial does its job and makes the rest of the process easier. 

" _I need to talk to you, Dr Lin. Please my family is falling to pieces and you might be the only one with answers."_ Rebecca Katz pleads with me, which costs the prideful woman allot. 

I can give Rebecca and the rest of the family all the answers, precisely the problem. Nobody with the last name Katz wants the knowledge that I can provide. However, I am a logical port of call being one of the few friends they know from the secular world. If I turn Rebbecca away, she might look for answers in with the hospital gossips, who may not be as careful with the information. Sydney Katz is on personal leave, trying her best to deal with the repercussions of breaking a traditional engagement. 

"I have some tea and Challah rolls, would you like some before we talk?" my offer is reflective. 

"Do you know where my sister is, Dr Lin? She blows up her entire future and ruins our family and leaves without a world beyond 'I'm sorry, and I'm gay." or some weird combination of the two." Rebecca whispers the words as the condition is contagious. 

"It is my understanding that Sydney was planning on attending a religious retreat for the next ten days, one that limits contact?" I phrase the question as tactfully as I can. 

Syd and I aren't exactly talking after the last few weeks' high intensity, but I know she is far from missing with certainty. Dr Sydney Katz is methodical with requesting emergency 'famiy' and handing over patients (mainly to me). Dr Bell doesn't have a chance to complain because Syd offers to do extra admin tasks for the next few months as compensation. The deal is a mutually beneficial arrangement, Syd one of the few people I know who find such jobs deeply soothing.

"Please, Maggie, tell me what's going on? She's my sister, and I feel like I'm losing her." Rebecca is fighting tears now. 

I fight the urge to snap that the Katz family is far too willing to throw their daughter and sister away, that the real Sydney is far more valuable than the front that she prefects over the years. However, that is going to take far more than Challah Bread and tea to say. Right now, I have to focus on trying to bridge the gap between sisters without fraying the fragile new identity that Syd is building for herself away from them all. 

***

"You have come to the wrong place if you expect me to convince Syd she is making a mistake." my words are harsh, but it is my line in the sand. 

Rebecca doesn't finch much and takes a polite bite of the roll in her hand to her credit. Neither of us is particularly hungry, but sometimes the rituals of formality are comforting during stressful situations. My parents become masters of the dinner party during the trying last years of their marriage. The silence between Rebecca and I stretches before I make the declaration. 

"I am well aware that you come from a cultural background that has a different side of priorities and values, but I know my sister. She is Jewish to her very core, throwing away this last chance at a conventional life will hurt her beyond measure, especially now she formally dissolved connections with the matchmaker, without consulting us." Rebecca sounds a mixture of aggravated, angry and baffled all at once. 

"Shouldn't that tell you that her declaration about who she is no whim? Syd knew precise what she was giving up and still did it. Your sister is brave for doing so, even if you can't see it now." 

"My sister genuinely likes Hershel. Sydney Katz who likes about six people outside our family, would sit for hours and listen to him talk about the holy books." Rebecca marvels sounding lost now. 

"Academic compatibility doesn't mean that a right for each other as future husband and wife." I try to explain patiently without letting my liberal bias show. 

"and Sydney's 'discovery' doesn't mean they cannot make a marriage of true companionship and compatibility. Sydney would fulfil the duties of a good wife, that is for certain. Her endless infatuation with Neshama didn't stop her from doing the right then, why did she have upset the balance of everything?" Rebecca looks like she is resisting the urge to pace. 

"You knew about everything as teenagers, but you still went along with years of denial? Knowing how much pain Sydney went through and the years of damage and pain?" I can't help my voice from rising now. 

"Stop speaking about things you know nothing about; I was only following her lead. Sydney is as devout as they come, she went to Synagogue more times than the Rabbi's kids. The whole episode was traumatic enough; I wasn't going to compound the issue. The idea of being different was terrifying to her. I was happy to keep her secret." Rebecca sounds both defensive and steadfast. 

"Secrets have a way of coming out no matter how hard you try and bury them, especially when it comes to something so fundamental as identity." I whisper mostly to myself. 

"Not always for the better." 

I want to disagree and argue the point with all the conviction of a liberal debate kid, Rebecca does have a point. Sydney has told me the story from her point of view. Running away from her family wasn't close to an option when she was Nashama age. Too much of her sense of self lay with the place and people. The connection that Sydney and I share does not extend to the years of her past. That sacred ground is for the sisters alone, even if they do not realise that fact. 

***

"Sydney's marriage to Hershel was supposed to be the bright spot in a horrible year. I lost my second baby, a few weeks later than the my first child." Rebecca confesses into the silence of our stalemate. 

I am barely resisting the urge to kick this woman out of my house. Rebecca and the belief system that sustains her are indirectly responsible for Syd, and I's a mess today. Sydney couldn't give up the connection to her family to live openly with me as a couple. They didn't recognise the sacrifice back then, and they were willing to force her to make the same mistake again, only with much more permanent consequences. My one comfort is that Rebecca has no idea of the pain her words are causing me. 

We are on our second come of tea and the last of the biscuits and rolls. If Rebecca recognises Syd's baking, she is discreet enough not to mention the fact. She isn't curious enough about her surroundings to notice her sister's subtle signs staying over, from her running shoes to her favourite kind of apple. It's a shame that I don't even have the benefits of a secret affair; all those articles are entirely innocent. The sad thing is that Rebecca and I may well have been friends in another lifetime; she is a genuinely good person. 

"Oh, Rebecca, I am so sorry. I know that a family is something that you and Samual long for a family together." I feel a lump form in my throat. 

"My parents desperately needed to focus on something that wasn't the thought of never having grandchildren." Rebecca explains with a pained smile. 

My words are true; in that way, Sydney and Rebecca Katz are exact opposites in their desires. Rebecca married the boy her family chose for her as soon as she was old enough. Her path was as predictable as Sydney's was foreign. The stumbling block of infertility and miscarriage strikes particularly hard for a community that values so much. 

"I lost a baby a just over ten weeks, the pain can be so hard. Don't let anybody tell you difficult, take the time to grieve for this baby before trying for another." I advise softly keeping my voice as gentle as possible. 

Rebecca's face softens in compassion. She looks almost identical to her sister when Dr Katz needs to deliver bad news to patients. My grief swells from somewhere deep and is almost overwhelming for a second before I get everything under control. Unfortunately there many women in the club where nobody wants to belong. The sadness at losing a potential life can be profound, no matter how well you understand the odds. Gavin and I weren't ready to be parents, but we loved that child that never got a chance to be ours. 

"Will you ever try again?" Rebecca asks with a thread of hope in her voice. 

"I believe so yes, one day when the circumstances are right. Children will be one of the joys of my life. There are other joys for your parents to find, they still have to devoted daughters who love them, hinging everything on a possible marriage will not ease their pain, Becca." I subconsciously use the old nickname. 

"My parents adore Hershel. He is one of Samuel’s dearest friends and study partners. The pattern fits perfectly for a new life together. I was looking forward to building a life with my sister." Rebecca whispers brushing at a stray tear. 

***

"You love, Sydney I know you do, don't throw that away because you don't understand." I sound desperate now, but emotions are running high. 

Rebecca indeed visited us at medical school as often as her studies would allow. Some afternoons I would hear nothing but them giggling in a mixture of Hebrew and English. Back then, it was difficult to resent this family entirely when being with them made the woman I was falling in love with so happy. I cannot claim to know Rebecca or be her friend, but it is easy to see that she finds the estrangement from Sydney both painful and baffling. I am probably the worst person to act as an intermediary, but I am the only person available for the job. 

"Of course I do, that's what makes her decision so hard, she is turning her back on everything we are, like the community means nothing to her." Rebecca snaps back at me. 

"You mean everything to her. Why do you think she lives in such detail. Being gay and Jewish, aren't mutually exclusive." I meet Becca's eyes with determination. 

The topic of being queer and Jewish is something that I can speak on with some authority. My research tendencies led me to want to know as much as possible about the potential life Sydney might face, even though I know the chances of her coming out were small. There are a growing number of Rabbis and communities that are identity affirming, even if there is still significant backlash. They believe that discarding and shunning children goes against the fundamental teaching. These men and woman come from the reformist tradition, but they do exist. 

"Do Google tell you all about our culture and its many variations?" Rebecca keeps her voice cold and brittle. 

"I have more respect for you and your sister to make such claims lightly. My years as Sydney's roommate were not entirely without instructions in the faith, including reliable information sources. I can recommend books if you like, you and Sydney share a love of reading." I offer with an encouraging smile. 

"A book or talk by a Rabbi or two isn't going to dismantle centuries of tradition. The situation is far more complex, especially after the fallout from the Neshema situation." Rebecca manages to relax slightly. 

"But the choice you face _is_ simple enough; you love your sister enough not to be preparing to sit Shiva for her and to seek answers. If you believe it's the work of an ayin ha'ra than why do you come to someone like me? Who you _know_ will argue the point?" I feel myself getting into full debate mode without conscious thought. 

"You weren't this stubborn when we were younger." Rebecca says with a sight smile.

"Call it a job requirement for being a medical geek with a legend for a father, besides it comes in handy when dealing with students and colleagues alike." I offer a shrug trying not to let hope swell too much. 

Rebecca Friedman isn't running from me and my adamant refusal to disagree with Sydney's choice to end the marriage. She is within the rights of Jewish custom to reject Syd without a backwards glance. Maybe I can perceive the fragile connection between them by confidante and offering an alternative perspective. My therapists will have a lot to say about this situation. 

***

"Why do you have one of Sydney's journals in room?" 

I freeze, recognising my mistake immediately. Rebecca went into my room to take a call from Samuel and freshen up a little before heading home. As part of my grieving process for the baby, I fill my room with items that hold sentimental value, including the keepsakes from my time with Syd, at least the ones that aren't overly romantic. The blue and white journal she left with her things is on one bookshelf. I can't read the words she wrote, but they still mean something to me. The cover and spine are unremarkable but Jewish enough to catch Rebecca’s eye, especially because Syd wrote in them regularly. 

"It is something she left with me for safekeeping. I have her first stethoscope around here somewhere. We were roommates during a fairly memorable time in our lives." I struggle to keep my voice my voice light. 

"Sydney would never leave one of these books anywhere. She scribbles anything from recipes to anatomy models, but woe betide anyone who dares read them." Rebecca muses out loud, holding the book with a curious look before frowning at me. 

"It was a long time ago..." I begin somewhat helplessly. 

It's hard to feel like an actor in one of those terrible romantic comedies when Rebecca opens the journal and starts reading. I watch with a mixture of both outrage and regret, outrage at the invasion of Syd's privacy, even by a sister. Regret that Sydney is not here to either defend herself or read the words she wrote so long ago. I have a sinking feeling that Rebecca is not going to leave whatever she finds to herself. The mixture of emotions that flash over her face is too intense for that. 

_ "Dear Maggie, It makes me sad that we cannot go on double dates with Alex and your other friends. I know that you miss such casual interaction sometimes, even though we have wonderful date nights at home."  _ Rebecca translates from a page at random. 

" _Dear Maggie, We did it, we made it through our last year. I wish that we could hug, kiss and celebrate like Julia and David, make everybody roll their eyes in jealousy. You made this year so wonderful, even when things were at their most stressful and unbeatable."_ Rebecca’s voice is trembling for a whole new reason now. 

" _Dear Maggie, I love you so much. I have no idea if I will ever get the courage to say the words out loud, but here are the next best things. Sometimes when we are together, Neshema's bravery doesn't feel so impossible_. _if I ask, would you run away with me? In the metaphorical sense? Because we both have scholarships right here."_ Rebecca glares at me as if I have betrayed her. 

" _Dear Maggie, When we touch..."_ thankfully, Rebecca has enough self-preservation to slam the pages shut before continuing. 

"I think you should leave now, Rebecca, emotions are running high. There is no need for things to dissolve now. I doubt this revelation is a huge surprise if you think about it and how close we were. It doesn't make my advice any less sound. May I have my book back please?" It takes everything in me to keep my voice from shaking. 

Thankfully Rebecca follows instructions and slams the book down on the table. She turns at leaves my apartment without saying a word more. The air feels heavy with the weight of both her reactions and Sydney's confession diary. I cannot regret knowing her thoughts, but they make me said. 

***

Having a dinner date with Sydney Katz isn't the sensible thing to do right now. 

Sydney is back from her time off, and she requests to see me for lunch on the same day. Her text is light and carefree, the exact opposite of what I am feeling right now. Rebecca's visit and the journal's revelations are difficult to ignore; the little snippets are nothing I didn't know, either factually or instinctively. Still, there is something about hearing Rebecca translate that unsettles my careful balance. My new therapist is in favour of me talking to Syd directly before making any major decisions. 

"Hey, you look wonderful." I blurt the words without much conscious thought. 

"Thank you; I cannot say that the last weeks have been easy, or that the retreat was able to give me all the answers. I will start counselling with a Rabbi who serves at a local temple next week. He doesn't seem overly intimidated by the prospect after meeting me at the support group, so that's a good sign. I remain 100% certain that my decision was the right one." Sydney is starting to do that lovely ramble I miss so much. 

"I am so glad, Syd. You are taking definite first steps." I cannot help beaming at her with more pride than a friend should have. 

We fall into companionable silence and focus on dinner for a while. Sydney looks different in slightly more secular clothing choices, pants and a green top, with her hair in a messy bun. For a second I lament the fact I am not in a position to buy her jewellery. There are pieces in the market that would look lovely on her. This interaction is starting to feel like a date in all but name. 

"How are things for you? Any updates from Shiloh I should know about?" Sydney is in a clear attempt to change the subject. 

"Your sister visited me, looking for answers and offering strong opinions on most topics. Which wasn't too different from our previous interactions, save the unpleasantness of the subject matter." I cannot avoid the topic any longer. 

"Oh Maggie I am so sorry..." Sydney starts to say, looking truly horrified. 

"Well, the good news is that we did a decent job of hiding our relationship, and for the most part, our interactions were civil. The bad news is she found your journal and wasn't shy about translating for me." I cut her off softly. 

In a mixture of fascination and horror, Sydney watches as I put the book in question on the table. Syd doesn't skimp on stationary, and it is in excellent condition despite the years at the back of my wardrobe. I almost want to take the words and gesture back when I see her eyes fill with tears. At the same time, we can't exist in this holding pattern forever. Syd's hands tremble as she runs fingers down the spine, a distant look in her eyes. 

"That little sneak, I knew I should have switched to writing in cypher earlier. She never could resist a mystery especially when it came to me." Syd tries to joke, but neither of us can find the humour. 

"But you did write in code; you wrote me letters and explanations that I couldn't read, that I had to hear your sister yell and me in a confusing mixture of octaves. 

"I don't know, the memories meant to much to me, represent too much happiness to throw away, but I couldn't risk discovery. You and our little flat were the safest places I ever knew." Syd is openly sobbing now. 

Leaning over and gently framing her face before kissing her passionately is not the most sensible plan. I do it anyway.


	8. Bad and Good Ideas

_ " If you wait for me _

_ Then I'll come for you _

_ Although I've travelled far _

_ I always hold a place for you in my heart _

_ If you think of me _

_ If you miss me once in a while _

_ Then I'll return to you. _

_ I'll return and fill that space in your heart. _

_ Remembering _

_ Your touch _

_ Your kiss _

_ Your warm embrace _

_ I'll find my way back to you. _

_ If you'll be waiting." Tracy Chapman  _

"Do you want to know what that says? Or why Becca was particularly scanalised?" 

It takes me a second to register the question. Our make out session is passion and brings back floods of memories and endorphins. Sydney Katz kisses with the same intensity she does almost everything else. The strange mixture of disorientation and euphoria is unique to our relationship, which I have missed in the last five years. My companion looks adorable with her hair a mess and her glasses sitting at an odd angle. She is holding open her old diary at the page that Becca abandoned. Syd chews her lip nervously, but there is determination in her gaze as well. Like all her students, I know it is best to let her follow through with whatever mission is on hand. 

"My handwriting was _dreadful_ back then; thankfully, I didn't descend too far into the medical cliche. Rivka will be judging me for that transgression as well no doubt; I was usually writing in the middle of the night after long days at uni. Still, I should practice handwriting more; computers don't solve enough especially at the Synagogue." Sydney rambles before clearing her throat and beginning. 

" _Dear Maggie, when I touch you, there is a renewal and loss of my faith. I lose the conviction that my parents' scriptures on sex are the final word. I gain the brief flickering’s of hope that my life could exist beyond their expectations. Your skin is a wonderful new landscape for me to explore, even if it's only in the privacy of our respective rooms. These moments feel almost holy rather than the definition of sin..."_ Sydney trails off her voice cracking and hoarse. 

_ " _ Oh Syd..." I want to say so many things, but our respective emotions are running too high. 

"Rivka will read between those lines with relative ease. Her science-loving sister does not get sentimental and poetic for many reasons. Heck, she probably knew from the first page." Her tearful voice negates the attempt at humour. 

"I wish..." I begin somewhat helplessly. 

There were so many things that I want to say; each potential sentence competes with the other. My throat feels tight and painful with the unspoken emotion, from both our past and present. There is no use in saying that I want that day back or feel cheated not having those words said to me at the time. While that would be entirely honest, it would also inflict deep pain where wounds already reside. Still, I treasure having the answers to those early questions now. 

"The sad thing is none of this is a surprise to Rivka or my parents if their detail didn't run so deep. There are so many things I wish were different, but documenting how I felt about you, even in the confines of this journal, are not one of them. There is nowhere safer for my soul to be, such a dramatic line is in here something too." Sydney strokes the cover of the book affectionately. 

The next few moments are both deeply memorable and surreal. Sydney Katz moves closer to me again, willing invading my personal space again. She kisses me again, taking care to cradle my face before deepening the contact enticingly. I know that the more sensible option would be to stop this from escalating any further. The last 24 hours is far too intense to be entirely healthy. Space would help us get a better sense of the situation and rebuild emotional resources. We move closer together anyway. 

***

Falling into bed with Sydney Katz right now is a terrible idea. 

If either of us were in the frame of mind to seek advice from our respective therapists, they would caution against neglecting wider issues favouring a quick fix. I am somebody who is in the middle of the 'Sex Importance Scale. The act isn't something I do, especially casually, nor does it mark the ultimate relationship achievement. Both belief systems can be destructive in their different ways. Syd and I are somewhere between the two extremes. Our bodies are familiar with each other, but there is still the separation of years to contend with, we are always on uncertain ground, even if the love isn't in question. 

We move to my bedroom without discussion; she grips my hand with a fierce intensity that is almost bruising. It makes me smile when Syd starts stripping her clothing neatly folding them, rather than kicking them to the floor. It's a quirk that always stuck in my mind through the years. Almost without thinking, I mirror her actions, feeling suddenly self-conscious about the lingering effects of her miscarriage. I am not quite as gangly at 30 as I was at 24, but the loss of appetite can change a person in less than attractive ways.

"Change is nothing to be ashamed of Maggie; your body has been through trauma and reflects that nothing more. Be proud of survival and the strength it takes to keep going through a physiological storms." Sydney's voice is achingly gentle. 

"Doctors have the oddest bedroom talk, don't we?" I ask laughing at the absurdity. 

"Absolutely, that's why it's a good thing I am trying to impress a fellow doctor and not an economist, isn't it?" Sydney says high voice light and happy. 

"Come now; you were always going to date a fellow doctor, all your intense jokes and metaphors. It would be a shame to waste them on people who can't fully appreciate such wit. 

Sydney returns the grin before shrugging and moving to kiss me again. There is nothing frantic or desperate about our moves, a stark contrast from our last lovemaking, so many years ago. There is no tension in Syd's hands as she wraps them in my hair; she isn't dragging me to the bed as there is a time limit. She hums softly in the back of her throat, which seems to be a subconscious gesture of contentment; it may be the first bars of a Hebrew song. One day we will find the time and space for her to explain such quirks. 

Somewhat regretfully, I rearrange our limbs, only slightly so that I can remove her glasses and unpin the clips in her hair, it tumbling free feels like a luxury and a victory. Even before summing the courage to love her, I freely admit to an obsession with Syd's great hair. Redheads were always likely to get a second look in the bars or online profiles, to my shame. None were controlling opinionated Jewish doctors though. I run my hands through the different strands, catching the light. 

***

For most of our relationship, Sydney and I were terrible at sex and physical intimacy. 

It's something of a taboo subject to consider much less talk about, but it is the truth. We never quite got the hang of being together in that way, and it wasn't like people were lining up to offer us advice or support. Syd was terrified of sexual desire and expression. I was afraid of hurting her or adding to her pain. Combining factors did a number on our respective libidos, not a huge amount of energy to spare into between classes. Handing holding, gentle kisses and nuzzling on the coach become our way of expressing our physical feelings. 

"Oh how I miss you, Darling." Sydney whispers as she gently pushes me onto the bed. 

I do not trust myself to form a coherent sentence at that moment. Reaching up and taking Syd's hand and pulling our bodies together feels like the next logical step. Her pale skin is rapidly flushing with both heat and high emotions. Her scattering of freckles are even more obvious and make me grin like an idiot. There is no reason not to reach up and trace wondering fingers in the line of her neck to trace each visible mark and quest to move further down. Syd approves of my efforts because she tilts her up to allow me better access. 

"Marrying Hershel would have laid a solid and safe foundation, but missing out of something like this is a high price to pay, perhaps far too high." Syd leans over and kisses me with a fierce determination. 

"Your happiness and contentment within yourself was always a too higher price to pay, Darling, even if you only experienced lesbian feelings in theory rather than practice. You were never an acceptable sacrifice to stitch into the tapestry of normalcy." I insist trying to let the conviction of my words show. 

"Now who is breaking out the interesting metaphors, Maggie. Why don't you show me in detail exactly what is at stake in this new, untested life of mine?" Syd challenges with a small smile. 

***

We don't set the world on fire. 

The lovemaking was far from bad; our impulse decision to give in to our physical desires ls different from the times as young students. We know our bodies better and can relax into the sensations and the connection that is building. Syd knows enough to let her body relax and doesn't worry about every movement or motion. I allowed her to set the pace largely because she demands it without speaking. She pins me to the bed and starts trailing kisses down every piece of skin she can find. I fall into an almost trace running my fingers through her long hair, shimmering in the light. 

"You are wonderful, Darling." I whisper for lack of a better thing to say. 

If a sex-positive therapist was there to give commentary, I am confident that they would complement our communication and gentleness with each other. We pause into between actions and wait for consent before continuing. Syd is still shy and reserved, but she works up the courage to express her specific desires, discomfort and needs. The luxury is that for once we have nothing but time. 

"Maybe, but I am more wonderful for having you in my life, both then and being willing to wait now. It wasn't possible to thank you properly then, and I'm not entirely sure I can find the words now. At least now, there is no more waiting for the inevitable axe of my future marriage to fall. Whatever, the consequences, the truth is in the open, and my life will be better for that change." Sydney insists as she rearranges our limbs again.

At some point, we will have to talk about Sydney Katz's tendency to view me as some sort of secular saint, full of virtue. Perhaps this next step in our relationship, the physical reconnection will help with the open conversations. Now that we are no longer in the holding pattern of 'almost but not quite' lovers. I am not confident of much, but I am sure that Dr Sydney Katz will not retreat into denial again for the sake of appearances. Rebecca Friedman inadvertently provides the reassurance on that front. 

***

"Hey, there is no shame in crying, Sweetheart. Come here."

Somehow I am the end how ends up like a blubbering mess when finally reach then end of our endurance. The swell of emotion hits me without warning; there isn't even time to hide the tears that stream down my sweaty face. It's far from the ideal romantic afterglow, my skin is hot, and the salty tear tracks sting my face. I'm no Casanova but my morning after moments don't typically involve a complete emotional breakdown. Sydney is in her usually pragmatic way moves and pulls me into a close embrace. 

"Remember what we were talking about when it comes to overactive endocrine systems and hormones. Emotional highs and crashes are normal. Not to forget the pressure of reunion sex with the woman who broke your heart." Sydney comforts reaching to press a kiss to my forehead. 

"I know that medicine is our first language, but there is no need to diagnosis me, Syd. Losing the plot is embracing enough without too adjectives or adverts." I complain, but I still move further into the embrace. 

"I am in no way diagnosing you or the situation. There is a difference between being a doctor and somebody who cares for you deeply, even if we struggle to make the distinctions sometimes. " Sydney rummages in the desk drawer to find tissues. 

I try not to feel too much mortification as she gently wipes my face and dries the tears, snot and other evidence. Sydney Katz is above all, a natural caretaker. I may have vague dreams about a glorious and glamorous morning after, complete with good lighting, but this is more realistic. Stopping Syd from looking after me or anyone is like trying to stop the tides from flowing or the sun from rising. We have seen the best and the worst of each other long before now. High intensity after lovemaking is no exception. 

"Sometimes, I am so mad that I didn't fight harder to change your mind or at least offer an alternative option for consideration, where I said everything to your parents, about how unfairly they were treating you. The possible scenario kept me up at night for more months that is healthy. The aftermath of losing a secret relationship isn't pretty, right? At least we have that shiny degree to show for it. A physical embodiment of the labour." 

"Please, don't torment yourself. You know that I wouldn't have listened and it would play out the same, if not worse. My parents may have been cruel to me, uncaring of my feelings. But that would be nothing in comparison to the scorn they would reserve for a 'corrupting' influence. There is a reason they send Becca as their peaceful mediator. No matter how beautiful or eloquent your words wouldn't change anything." Sydney explains as she wipes my checks. 

"That doesn't make our lost time and separation any less painful. I keep waking up every morning, thinking your stay in Hope Zion is a dream."

"Only with more paperwork and administrative nightmares to content with, Jason Kalfas is a doctor who feuls my nightmares but my secondment is real." Sydney assures me with an encouraging smile. 

"I thought I out grow your ability to make me cry and lose all sense of reality" I lament somewhere between a joke and seriously. 

"I am here Maggie, more importantly, I am here. Whatever the future holds, I want it to build something together, even if the precise details are fussy right now." Sydney reaches down and pulls me into a fierce hug as if to understand her point. 

***

"I dreamed about cooking for you again, one day, knowing that you rely far too much on vending machine fare." 

"Somehow chocolate and staff room salads kept me going between your power wraps and veggie pizza rolls." I lament with as I watch the show. 

Syd says the words almost absently, and immediate seems to regret them. We aren't quite at the stage of discussing what last nights events mean for the future. My bed mate is still in the middle of untangling herself from an engagement and community that is unwilling to let her go. It's unlikely that my words to Rebecca were magical in any way. Still, it feels all wonderful to see this woman moving around my kitchen, making breakfast. The preparations are quite the production, Sydney takes all food seriously. 

"Well your fridge is depressingly wone, but I did my best with the meagre contents, pancakes and fruit. I didn't trust the look of any of those leftovers, even if they are Kosher. Thanks for making an effort to keep things Kosher for me, you didn't need to that." Sydney throws a beaming smile that makes me melt. 

"It was almost absentminded when you came home, muscle memory or something. It's hard to forget the lectures you gave me in the first week were hard to ignore. I had my doubts about meeting your standards at that moment." I confess, returning her grin with a similar intensity. 

"I was such an overeager control freak, trying to keep my world from spinning out of control out, fruitless effort that was in the end." Sydney shakes her head, and the blush returns. 

"Do you want to go food shopping with me?" I blurt unexpectedly. 

I could have said that strange request wasn't high on the list of all the romantic gestures. Sydney pauses when plating up the breakfast, her beautiful eyes wide in question. I hastily get up and start settling up the cutlery. We fall into the familiar domestic routine without even thinking. Syd, claims not to be a great chief or even home cook, but the woman puts great effort into preparing food. It makes me both happy and sad to see the next and precise preparation. The stack of pancakes is high and fluffy. We earnt the extra calories last night; my muscles are still sore in the best ways. 

"I would love to go shopping with you. It would be great to something with low level intensity." Sydney is charitable enough to let everything slide. 

There is still plenty to work out in the coming days and weeks. Sydney Katz is still my superior on the hospital grounds, Dr Grant won't be there for every situation. We are both in emotionally vulnerable places with plenty of potentials to get worse. I dread to think what Syd will think of my rather haphazard online dating. I don't feel ready for the complexity of Sydney's life as a devout Jewish woman with no place to worship. That doesn't factor in the emotional labour of our friends, families and patients. All of whom will all influence our next few weeks in some way. 

Our therapists will have plenty to say about going shopping with the one time love of my life. It may be naive to think this or just the after-effects of a dopamine flood, but I still feel a surge of hope for the future, whatever the shape. I think this may be the secular version of faith when you trust in the strength of your relationships, connections and path to hold and carry you through uncertainty. 


End file.
